


Elf and Dwarf

by lemonjapp



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angst, Bilbo Baggins marriage counsellor, Canonical Character Death, Elrond is a saint, F/M, I love Thorin who is a gorgeous oaf, Romance, Thranduil is a git, Thranduil really is a git
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-25 22:46:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 33,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonjapp/pseuds/lemonjapp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin Oakenshield married... to an Elf?????</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Betrothal

 

 

**_ELF AND DWARF_ **

 

**Chapter One  A Betrothal**

 

 

The outlook from the battlements was cold that day.  A razor sharp breeze raked my hair. I sighed and wondered how long I would have to wait for his arrival. Only my determination kept me there.  After all it was me who had to marry the dwarf.

 

When the time came it lasted seconds.  Many ponies neared and passed under me through the gate.  All the riders were similar, nearly a blur. Which was he?  Having wasted my time I returned to my chamber.  I would just have to wait. 

 

Sadronniel dressed me as I stood impatiently.  Who cared what I wore?  I was incidental to the whole affair.  We sat in  silence until the abrupt knock, then left for the throne room.  My train was a heavy encumbrance.  I would never enjoy formal clothing.  At the entrance to the cavernous throne room Sadronniel  fussed with my hair while I endured it and sighed.  Then we were inside and took our places in a half hidden corner.  My understanding of my own importance was confirmed. The others in the room ignored our entrance.  Dwarves and elves sat in chairs or stood in varying degrees of boredom, anger and agitation.  It looked as though the negotiations were going badly.  Of course they were.  Who in their right mind would consider the marriage of a dwarf to an elf to be a good idea, for any reason?  Let alone the bonding of a freak to a king?

 

I was having no success in identifying my beau.  From my dark corner they all looked alike, hairy and short.  Beside them my kinsmen's grace and beauty was startling.  Maybe the idea of the marriage wasn't so bad after all. Amongst dwarfs I wouldn't stand out much as at home.  As I smirked a dwarf looked over his shoulder in my direction.  He was dark and grim.  My smirk faded under the influence of his frown.  He didn't look impressed, by me or the situation. 

 

_She is beautiful.  Her long hair jewelled inside its golden net, dark and lustrous.  Her eyes large and black.  And she is small.  Smaller than me maybe.  I feel my eyes widen and hastily school my expression to its usual blankness. The Tree-Shaggers take offence if a Dwarf breathes, so exclamations are out of the question.  But I have never seen a beautiful elf.  True, she has no beard, her skin is smooth and pale.  But she is  still beautiful.  I find myself staring and bring my gaze forwards, to her weasel of a father.  She is an elf.  And I am going to have to marry her. Blast trade.  Blast diplomacy. Mahal help me for I don't know if I can go through with it._

 

 

 

Finally my father stood.  For some minutes there had been a lull in the discussion, inaudible to me, but as he glanced in my direction I realised that my time had come.  I stood and pulled irritably at my train.  It finally came free of the table leg and I moved towards the group.  They were all standing now, their eyes turned to my approach.  My father held out his hand and placed me centrally, to be examined.  No one spoke.  Dwarfish eyes widened, narrowed or were averted as as the elves present sneered.  Yes, I am a freak. I thought.  Get over it.  Now everyone can go home and we'll forget all about it.  I wished they would just let me go.  But no one seemed to consider me to be alive let alone sentient.  As they stared the dark dwarf's eyebrows seemed to get heavier and drew so far together that his frown dominated his entire face.  A face which may normally be called dignified now simply raged. 

 

 

Finally he spoke.  "Is she an exhibit or a Princess?  Is this how you treat your daughter?  Do you allow her to speak for herself?"

 

My father drew a breath at the challenge.  "She may speak, but it will make no difference to the proceedings.  You have seen her, and now I expect you to sign."

 

The dark dwarf growled low.  He _really_ hated my father.  So we had something in common.  Was this my future spouse?  I thought I preferred him to my father already.  I folded my arms, looking at my father.  "If you've finished I'll go.  I can start packing."

 

"Oh no my girl, we have two days of formalities and joyous celebrations ahead of us.  I am sure that in future years you will look back to your days of romance with gladness."  He smiled, which always made me feel I was being confronted by a snake.  For some reason. 

 

"Well let me know how it goes," I said and made to leave the room.

 

"You will witness the signing I hope" said the dwarf.  That stopped my in my tracks and I turned to face him for the first time. 

 

"Are you him?" I asked clumsily.     

 

"If I take your meaning correctly then yes I am.  I am Thorin King Under the Mountain.  And you are to be my Queen." 

 

I wanted to shout at him.  Why would you agree to that?  Look at me!  It's a joke! But I shut my mouth resolutely. 

 

"It seems that we are well matched in height," said the king.  "Not as I had imagined."

 

No I bet you didn't, I thought.  You didn't expect this joke.  Maybe you even thought my father was a reasonable man. "Yes, we are indeed of a height" I replied at last.  "So I will at least fit through the doors of your palace."  Then I turned and left the room. Who knew what he thought of me.  Who even cared? 

 

Back in my chambers I lay on my bed and sobbed. 

 

 

 

_She has spirit.  Despite her unforgivably rude and tyrannical father, she speaks out and makes her disgust clear.  This marriage is as unwelcome to her as to me.  Naturally:   it is unnatural, the union of elf and Dwarf. She is a Tree Shagger. She may not be a typical elf, but is still one of them, a child of the woods, while I have the proper regard for the caverns of the earth.   It is disgusting._

 

 

 

 

No-one came. Sadronniel  and I stayed in the darkness of the room and eventually fell asleep.  Morning arrived.  Still no-one came.  Sadronniel  persuaded me that I must eat and fetched food.  She said most of the palace was quiet.  They had all gone to the throne room again.  I sighed and agreed to walk outside for a while Sadronniel  fussed and eventually I was in the garden walk in warm robes and alone.  Sadronniel  took the chance to visit her mother.  It felt good to be alone.   But it was not to last.  A dwarf approached.  I had not seen this one before, or not noticed him.  He was smaller even than me, dressed in knitted woolen clothes and very shy. 

 

"I'm sorry," he began.  "I didn't know anyone would be out here.  Shall I go?"

 

"Stay if you want" I replied.  It makes no difference to me." I lied. It was interesting to see one of them close up and in the light.  He had a pleasant face, open and full of life.  So different from my kind, haughty and carefully neutral.  I warmed to him.

 

"Was it awful?" he asked suddenly.  "Yesterday?  I probably shouldn't mention it but I thought it was bad.  We all did.  Why are they allowed to do that to you?"

 

He looked at me earnestly.  He really didn't know, I thought.  "I am a freak" I replied.  "You must see that.  How else are the ugly to be treated?"  I knew I sounded bitter but he just looked shocked.   

 

"That's not right," he said with confidence.  "No-one can do that, not even a King."  He really thought that it mattered.   

 

"I can see you have never been amongst my kin before," I said.  Are dwarves really so different?"

 

"Yes," he said quickly.  "The way they treat you is terrible.  You may be an elf, but we'd never do that. Maybe you'll like it with us".  He looked hopeful and I could tell that he thought the whole arrangement strange.  He was not royalty then.  Only we are expected to marry strangers, think this to be normal. 

 

We were interrupted.  Another dwarf approached.  He was huge and bald, quite terrifying and taller than me.  He grunted at the smaller dwarf who looked awkward, then he addressed me directly.  "Princess, they want you in the throne room.  Thorin wants to talk to you.  No-one else will be there."

 

My mouth fell open.  I was to meet him alone?  A strange idea surely, for us royalty.  The marriage usually came first.  I nodded at them mutely and we all returned to the palace.  A frantic Sadronniel  met me there and fiddled with some desperation at my hair.  A lost cause as always.  It was dark and thick and coarse, not like that of my kin. Giving up she stood back and I led the way to the throne room, not believing for a moment that it would not be full of gawpers.  But the dwarf had told the truth, and as I progressed into the room the others behind me retreated leaving me alone with him.

 

 

_She does not float across the floor like the rest of her kind. She walks like a dwarf, solid and rooted.  She looks paler than ever, with dark circles around her dark eyes.  Her face gives away no emotion but the strain shows.  I want to kill Thranduil for his mockery and manipulation of us both.  Even her name is to him an ironic, cruel joke.  To me its meaning seems wholly appropriate. If I ever had a daughter she would not be treated thus._

 

 

He stood in front of my father's throne, stubby, short and dark, arms akimbo, frowning still.  Maybe that was his only expression I thought and nearly laughed.  I felt hysterical. Squaring my shoulders and setting my mouth I stood before him.  I gave him a small bow of the head.  He deserved that much, I felt.  He had shown some respect for me yesterday.  His dark eyes travelled up and down my body and I cringed.  He would not sign I knew.  Some deals were simply too expensive.  No matter how much both of us needed trade and defence allegiences, we were alien to each other.  Oh well.  They'd find another way.  I looked back at him, keeping my eyes on his left shoulder.  A safe place.

 

"He treats you shamefully." he said.  I gawped.  I had not expected that.  "Why? And why do you accept his treatment of you?" 

 

"Isn't it obvious? Because I am a short elf.  A freak.  An ugly embarrassment.  And because I have no other option.  He is the King." I said without emotion.  I always spoke without emotion if I could manage it.  It was easier that way, things seemed to hurt less. 

 

His frown was deeper if that was possible.  "Do you want this marriage?" he asked.  "You surely do not.  Your people hate my people.  You cannot truly wish to live amongst us."

 

"Again, I have no other option." I replied.  "You have seen my circumstances. Who knows, Erebor may be a paradise compared to the Woodland Realm."  He nodded, biting his lip, and sought my eyes, forcing me to look directly at him.  "Why would _you_ do this?" I asked him.  You cannot desire this.  You are a King.  You can do whatever you want."

 

He shook his head, not meeting my eyes.  "No, I cannot," he said.  "We need this treaty.  You know that royalty does not marry for pleasure. So you will come with us'" he pronounced. Yes, he was a King, and, it seemed, was just as unchallengeable as my father.

 

 

 

_I can not tell her anything but the truth, that I will marry her for purely political reasons.  But I know that by removing her I may be saving her.  She seems more Dwarf than elf. Maybe she can be happy with us, free from Tree Shagger prejudice?  There is no sign that she thinks so.  She leaves the room abruptly, with no further words to me._

 

 

 

 


	2. A Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can they go through with it?

Chapter 2 A Ceremony

The air stifled with Elf and dwarf. I moved forwards. A space appeared, obviously meant for me. In front of me, my father. Beside me, Thorin. We spoke the words. They were empty, a joke. Love and cherish? I closed my eyes. I refused to feel anything. When I opened them again, Thorin's hand was stretched towards mine. I took it, and we stepped forward, sat in chairs. Everyone looked at us in silence. My father was smirking, he thought it was all so funny, the freak and the dwarf.

Now it was time for the entertainment. Elves danced, Elves sang and played instruments. Then it was my turn. I picked up the harp that was waiting for me. I played. My only acceptable achievement in my father's eyes. I sang too. Everyone clapped. I hadn't spoiled anything. Then to my surprise, Thorin leant down, picked up a harp. He played and sang. A deep, deep voice speaking of caverns and darkness. It was beautiful. So we had something else in common. I looked at him. His eyes met mine and he was not frowning.

 

_She looks traumatised. It is the first emotion I have seen in her. She moves like one who is dead to the world. I have done this to her. As responsible for her agony as Thranduil. But when she picks up her harp the music flows like the streams in the Greenwood of old, delicate, bubbling. When I reciprocate, her face changes. I can see her shock. She has not thought a Dwarf can love music. She has learned to hate my people at her father's knee. My music speaks not of sparkling streams in sunlight but of dark rivers moving through cold caverns. But we have a common love. A surprise. A start. ___

 

We stood, moved to tables and ate. I sat next to my husband. Everything was muffled, hot, airless. The food strangled me. When could I leave? Thorin rose. He turned to me. "My wife," he said, holding his hand out. "Come to bed." I took it, rose too. There was a shocked silence. My father's mouth fell open at the implication. He was to be denied any more sport. I smiled and gladly followed my husband out of the room.

 

In the sleeping quarters he stopped and bowed to me. "You will wish to be alone now," he said. "We will leave in the morning, two days earlier than planned. You will, of course bring your possessions to your new home." With that he bowed and left me. I drifted into my room, mesmerised. We were not to sleep together it seemed. A sham of a marriage. Of course. The implied sexual relationship was only to annoy my father. But my father would not know it. Thorin in his courtesy had spared me that. And in a few hours I would escape my father. I slept deeply that night.

 

_She comes willingly enough with me. She appreciates my snub to her father, I can see. Her eyes glitter. He wants to mock our strange partnership and does not expect me to appreciate his daughter, the 'freak.' He does not know what pleases a dwarf. Her short dark figure appeals to me, I admit it to myself, am shocked by myself. It is easy for me to imply that we will sleep together tonight. But she is still an elf. I can not bring myself to mate with her. That is all it would be, without love or affection. With Fili to follow me there is not even the need for an heir. And I would not make her suffer more than she does already. ___

 

The next morning chaos reigned. Dwarves ran here and there carrying my bridal price; boxes, packages, food, drink. My own packed articles disappeared. The ponies were readied. I stood bewildered and looked at my future subjects. There were 12 here. Some taller, some shorter. Some looked like servants, others more aristocratic. It all depended on their manner with each other I thought. And the clothes. Would I understand this culture? Never. But Sadronniel was to accompany me into exile. I would not be alone. She was my saviour as she had been all of my life, once my mother was dead at the hands of her misery as Thranduil's wife. Before I left my brother Legolas kissed me. His beautiful eyes pitied me. We would see each other rarely from now on. I would miss him I realised. They had not all been equally cruel after all.

Now we were leaving. I was mounted on a shaggy pony. Hardly graceful but my first ever mount of the correct size. Maybe I wasn't such a bad horse-elf after all. So the reason for my poor skills had been the size of my horse. Another trick of my father to humiliate me? It had never even crossed my mind that he could have provided a pony. 

Thorin came close. He leaned across and took my hand, our first contact of the day. I saw my father notice. He looked disgusted, like a fastidious Elf who notices a bad smell. I smiled. My husband was clever. He would humiliate Thranduil at every opportunity and how I would enjoy it. I knew the gesture for what it was. Political. Not affectionate. Never that. I must remind myself, never take a wrong step with him. And certainly never make the mistake of feeling for him. That way lay sorrow. He was a dwarf. Removing my hand from his I prepared to follow him out of the gate.

_She will not ape affection towards me, even to hurt her father. A truthful woman then. She sits her pony well and looks the part of Queen in her flowing pale green robe. Her hair catches the sunlight and rich brown shades appear amongst the black. She is beautiful. But she is not really mine. She belongs to Erebor now, but never to me. I will be careful to remember this. It is purely a political marriage. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive any errors. Only Thranduil's daughter is mine. The chapter is short and cold like the ceremony.


	3. Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new Queen arrives at her realm.

 

The journey passed without incident.  Leaving the gloom of the trees behind we took a pony track leading amongst hollows and rises.  I did not look back.  Why would I?  Ahead lay grass, rocks, open space.  We by-passed lake Town and carried on through the wilderness. This turned later into a desolate burnt  desert.  Everything was black and dead.  I turned to Thorin.  "The dragon?" I asked.  He nodded, and looked to another dwarf who spoke from behind us.  "Balin," said Thorin.

 

He was short with grey hair and authority.  "Smaug's desolation," he said.  "Our inheritance.  It will take years to regenerate.  It is why we need the co-operation of your father. There can be no farming here, even by men."

 

The dwarf behind him frowned. It was the giant bald dwarf of the garden. I had noticed that he was always behind Thorin. His personal guard?  My father had had a similar companion.  I supposed that all kings needed them.  This guard seemed grouchy.  He was not impressed by me it seemed.  No change there then. 

 

The grey dwarf continued regardless.  My brother Dwalin," he nodded towards the grouchy dwarf, "may be secretive," he said.  "But as our Queen you need to know everything."  That sounded daunting.  "You will play an active role in our community."  I glanced at Thorin who was nodding.  I was surprised.  I had assumed my role would be symbolic only.  

 

A mountain was drawing closer.  It was solitary, cone shaped, the Lonely Mountain.  I shuddered.  Did they truly live inside it?  In the darkness.  I shuddered then sought to hide it.  This would be so different for me.  Not a tree was in sight.  I had lived my entire life surrounded by them.  Thorin turned to me and he was smiling.  "Your new home, my Queen," he said.

 

 

_I expect her to be discouraged by the environment she is moving into.  To my people Erebor is almost sacred, a place of legend and beauty.  But now I see it through a stranger's eyes._

_The blackened wasteland; the rubble that was once the fine city of Dale; the wasteland before the gate; the stink of dragon as soon as we enter.  I drop my head in shame, not with my kingdom, but with my part in bringing her here.  There is nothing here for her.  No trees, nothing living at all.  No graceful wooden art forms, merely the crumbling remains of our colossal statuary.  No glorious colourful fabrics, my people are dressed very nearly in rags.  And so few females, she will have no company but that of her elderly servant.  How will she spend her time? Will our culture be anything but gloomy to her? Will she have any interest in life with us?  I pity her.  I catch the feeling with surprise, I am thinking of her no longer as an elf, but as an individual, an equal._

 

_I glance at her face.  She is looking around her, seemingly in fascination, her eyes large, her full lips parted.  She turns her eyes upward, obviously disturbed by the darkness above us.  Then she turns to me and smiles slightly.  There is sweetness there, and no disgust.  I lift my head once more, my courage restored._

 

 

After the winding tunnels my room at last.  I was alone but for Sadronniel.  Her room would be nearby thank Aule.  My room was square, hewn from living rock.  It was also warm, lit by oil lamps and equipped with stone furniture.  The stone was of different textures and colours, beautiful really.  I must find out about stone.  A wide bed.  A fireplace. How did they do that? Where did the chimney come out?  Warm fur rugs.  Armchairs.  A clothes chest.  All draped in red with gold embroidery.  Very stately, warm and rather pleasant.  It was like my experience of dwarves. Straightforward, warm.  So different from what I knew.  But surprisingly alright. 

 

Sadronniel  brought food and drink, we were obviously to be left alone tonight.  I took my precious books from my box.  Only five of the books in the Woodland Realm were my own, but they were given to me by my mother, beautiful and precious.  My greatest joy.  Company on lonely days, and through sleepless nights, although I knew every word that lay between their thin wooden covers.  I did not expect to find books at Erebor.  These would be my only reading.  The idea was a shocking one.  After a while I lay down on the bed. Eventually I slept.

 

Morning looked the same as night in the Lonely Mountain.  There were no windows, no light but that which came in the front gates.  Sadronniel  woke me and I stretched.  Today I would not have to greet my father.  A good day then.  I rose.

 

I had my own washroom which led out of my chamber.  I was glad of it.  Once dressed in my simplest gown, I left my room to find dwarfs.  The corridors were strangely quiet.  Sadronniel knew her way around a little for she had found and brought food to me.  We ended up in the kitchens but at least there were friendly faces.  An enormously fat dwarf presided over vast ranges.  How was all the steam vented?  I really must find out.  Bombur, for that was his name, directed us to a dining chamber where we ate a solitary breakfast.  It seemed that dwarfs rose early.   

 

 As we were finishing a short but solid dwarf passed through the room.  He offered to show us to the council rooms where we would find my husband.   Dori, the solid dwarf, left us in the council chamber with alot of fussing that reminded me of my dear Sadronniel.  Dwarfs were indeed sitting and standing around the room, but none of them was my husband.  Two lithe figures sprang forward, enthusiastically grinning at me.  I recognised my 'nephews' Fili and Kili.  These was Thorin's sister-sons.   I found myself smiling back, despite my usual habits.  Thorins heirs were voluble pranksters.  It was hard to imagine my elegant brother behaving in this way.  I liked it.  "Auntie!" shouted Kili, the younger who had the widest smile.  "We thought you were lost."

 

"We were about to form a search party," added Fili, the blondest dwarf I had yet seen.  Was he like me, an oddity?  There were few dark haired elves but me living in Mirkwood.

 

"Have you seen Thorin?" I asked.  After all, it seemed right that I should greet my husband on a daily basis, even if we were not to be a true husband and wife.

 

Another dwarf, overhearing, answered. "You've just missed him," he said.  It was Ori, the woolly dwarf from Thranduil's garden. I felt pleased to recognise a face. Ori was poking his own eyebrow with a long quill.  I became concerned that he was about to lose an eye, as he nervously twirled it.  "But he asked me to take you around the place and show you things." 

 

"Said he'd see you eventually," added another dwarf.  This one had  hair in an extraordinary shape, like a pointed red tree.  He introduced himself as Nori, Dori and Ori's brother.  He stood a little too close to me and made me feel uncomfortable.  His smile was insinuating.  I stepped closer to Ori, who was like a lamb after his brother the wily fox.  Together we set off on our tour.

 

Ori showed me through endless corridors, opened hundreds of doors for my inspection of rooms full and empty, plush and mouldering.  "We've only sorted a few rooms in this area out so far," he said sadly.  "We've only been back here three years." He was very precise about this.  I liked Ori.  He was sweet, helpful and completely unthreatening.  If only all males were so. Maybe then I wouldn't have so many nightmares.

 

"And here," said Ori, as we approached yet another door, "Is my place. I saved it 'til last. You'll love it."  He opened the door I entered my favourite part of Erebor for the first time.

 

 

 

It was a library.  I felt a rush of excitement lift me.  Books, books were everywhere.  On the floor in stacks, jumbled on shelves, filling chairs and even the fireplace.  They were all leather-bound and covered in thick dust.  Except for one corner which had a desk with neat piles of clean books beneath it.  A tidy set of quills and vellum sheets lay ready.  This was obviously Ori's corner.   

 

"I haven't done much yet," he said sadly, "As I'm always being called to the council.  Meetings all day every day.  Some of them even seem to enjoy them.  Not Thorin though, or Fili or Kili.  None of them like paperwork or talk, they'd rather be supervising the mines or hunting.  There's not much priority for this place."

 

"Oh, Ori," I breathed at last.  "It's beautiful.  Just lovely.  I never imagined you even had books."

 

He looked shocked.  "Of course we do.  This is probably the biggest, but all the seven kingdoms had archives.  We take our history seriously you see. Not many Dwarrows can actually read, to be honest, but every kingdom has someone like me.  My job is to keep it all safe. And write the new stuff."  That was a thought.  I would feature in a history here one day. My pleasant reverie was cut short as the door abruptly opened behind me.  I swivelled my head to see the scowling face of my husband.  What was wrong now?  I stood and approached him.

 

"Thorin!  Books!" I said with some excitement.

 

He looked at me blankly. "Books" he repeated.  "What of it."

 

"But I love books!  Let me help Ori!  We can get it done together, your history is so important, it must be conserved."

 

"Well of course it will be but other things take priority.  Mines.  Chambers. Supplies.  Far more important."

 

My husband was a philistine.  How would I cope with that?  "Let me help Ori" I repeated.  I need occupation, besides the state duties of course."

 

"Very well, wife.  You shall have your books," he said dismissively.  "But now you must come with me."  He stood aside expecting my immediate compliance.  And got it of course.  I had been well-trained by that other King.  

 

_I am shocked by my own reaction when I see her with Ori in the library.  The moment reveals our differences.  She is cultured, clever, like him.  Also like him, young. When I see them I fleetingly feel jealousy, to my surprise.  I feel old  and grim next to them as they enthuse over the dusty books.  Then, a double take, no she is not younger than me, but... older, much older.  My life a blip to her hundreds.  How many hundreds I have neglected to find. out.  How far apart we are._

 

 

"We will take lunch together" said Thorin shortly, as he led me down the interminable corridors.  Eventually I recognised one and found myself passing my bed chamber and being ushered into the next room.  It was Thorin's private suite.  As well as the square bed-chamber and washroom leading off, there were two further rooms: a small room being used as a study, and a private dining room.  I wondered if, before my arrival, Thorin had dined here alone.  I felt sad at the idea of such a solitary existence.  Even my life had been less lonely.  I had not considered my husband's life before.  What was it like to be King of such a fragile new kingdom?  Had he been lonely?  Would my arrival make any difference to him?  I was ashamed.  I had thought of nothing but my own viewpoint.

 

Thorin placed me at the table then sat down himself.  The table was already laid with a light lunch of a dark bread, cheese and some rather old wrinkled fruit.  Even the king was having to live frugally, it seemed, with Erebor still so damaged.  "What do you think of Erebor now?" asked Thorin, tearing bread.  

 

"I have no idea'" I replied.  It's so confusing, a maze.  Some parts stately, others devastated."

 

"Then you have a good idea," he said, smiling slightly.  "That is the situation. We have achieved a little but it is slow.  Your comment about needing occupation for yourself makes me think.  You may find your own role here, helping our restoration.  There are many areas needing attention."  His dark eyes regarded me steadily.  His expression was neutral, but his tone encouraging.  I felt an eddy of optimism flow through me.

 

"Yes!" I replied enthusiastically.  I want to help.  I want to be useful."  He smiled again. 

 

"Good.  Then you must think and tell me what you wish to do. Something that fits your inclinations and skills.  I would  be sorry to bring you here only to stagnate.  Your life at home was, I think, unfulfilling."  His serious dark eyes were fixed on mine. My breathing seemed to tighten.  The air felt suddenly thin.

 

"It was no life at all," I stated.  

 

Thorin's face darkened.  "Your father has much to answer for.  Rest assured that I will make him pay for it.  In time."

 

The air grew still thinner.  I virtually gasped for breath.  His eyes continued to bore into mine.  "Thank you'" I said eventually.  

 

 

_She seems taken aback by my strong reaction to her father.  And, maybe I too am surprised by the  growing rage that floods me when I realise how he has diminished her.  She who is clever, beautiful, honourable.  I hide my clenched fists under the table until I can control and release them.  She will not understand our Dwarrow emotions.  Elves seem to float above such feelings._

 

 

"It will be a pleasure" he growled softly.  "Males who bully females have no honour.  It is our part to protect, and yours to care for us in turn."

 

I blinked at this.  So this was his view of marriage. But how could I fulfill my role in this 'marriage' if it were no marriage?  In what way would I care for him?  Suddenly, thinking of his obvious loneliness I felt that I would like to.  He reached his hand towards me and took mine lightly.  "We do not yet know each other my wife.  But that will come with time.  Do not fear, for I am certain you will make an admirable Queen for Erebor. You may be an elf but you are a Dwarf in stature and looks."  My breath stopped entirely.  A reference to my deformity as a good thing?  My life had flipped.  And so did my stomach, as he smiled into my eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive errors. Thanks for Kudos!


	4. Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen faces her first opposition.

**Chapter 4**

 

**Council**

 

I did much thinking over my future role within Erebor.  What _were_ my inclinations and skills?  

 

A few days later, during which I had frequently strayed into Ori's library and talked with him at length, and also sought out the wisdom of Balin, I found myself at my first Council meeting.  Apparently I was a full member.  The chamber was a highly decorated room leading off the throne room.  Thorin sat at the end of a long stone table which was carved with runes and Durin family decorations. I was to his left, Balin opposite me.  Most of the other council members were now familiar to me, a mixture of a couple of very elderly survivors of the old guard from before Erebor fell, councillors from the Blue Mountains refugee council and  Thorin's trusted Company, with Fili and Kili comfortingly flanking myself and Balin.  I was outwardly made welcome but the atmosphere was a strange one, as if no-one knew quite how to behave around me.  A familiar feeling.  I attempted to adopt my usual strategy of disappearing into the background. Impossible in this situation.  

 

 

_She looks terrified.  But I hope and believe that I only see this.  I am beginning to know her.  We have spent some hours talking together in the past days, despite my overwhelming work load. Thankfully Fili is growing more responsible and  taking some tasks on to his shoulders.  I have used the time to be with my wife.  She seems willing to learn, to take part, but I see her fear, she shivers when she thinks herself unobserved.  We who arranged this outrageous pairing are to blame.  Mahal forgive me my part in her suffering._

 

 

 

After some preliminary discussion of the current state of food supplies, water purity and restoration of the areas devastated by Smaug, Thorin turned his blue gaze on me.  "At this, my wife's first council meeting, I wish to outline her future role amongst us," he began.  

 

"May I say that I feel the Queen is a fine addition to our council," added Balin, twinkling at me.  I attempted to return his smile but was only too aware of the doubtful frowns from the old guard quarter.  

 

"Thank you Balin," replied my husband.  "I wish to make it clear that while the Queen is Thranduil's daughter, she is my wife and at the heart of Erebor's future."  He reached out his hand and touched my fingers lightly where they rested on the table.  I met his eyes gratefully and swallowed my doubt. I could almost hear the muttering thoughts of the elder councillors.  But the Company members grinned, nodded and in Kili's case cheered.  Fili, from his place next to Balin, nodded and met my eyes reassuringly.  

 

"The Queen has been considering how she would like to contribute and is, I hope ready with a short statement," Thorin concluded.  I took a slow breath.  Short sounded good.  

 

"I have been working this week with Ori in the archives," I began.  "This is an area close to my heart.  The history of Erebor is a great one and in the drive to the future the great deeds and endurance of your ancestors must never be forgotten.  With this in mind I intend not only to aid Ori in his restoration of the archive but also to look to the future.  It is my intention to take some of the brightest amongst the young and ready them to be our future historians."  A definite mutter  went around now.  But Thorin's steadying touch returned to my hand.  I continued.  "It is also vital for the future status of our realm that the young are prepared to meet the challenge of contact with other kingdoms, those of Men and Elves.  I shall begin a programme of education in the language and culture of Westron and Sindarin,"  a gasp from the far end of the table, "so that Erebor can compete in trade and status with the strongest around us."

 

 

_She speaks low but with passion.  The eyes of the Company watch her with respect.  My father's Councillors curl their lips.  And I?  I am astounded by her clarity, her vision after so few days among us.  Where our hands touch energy tingles, she energises me._

 

 

 

An extremely elderly councillor rose to his feet in protest.  "This is precisely as we have feared," he pronounced.  "Elf pollution of our culture is not acceptable."  Some voices supported him.  

 

Fili rose.  "Councillor Nari has served our kingdom well for many years before and during exile," he said quietly.  "But the future is here.  This is the new Kingdom of Erebor with new challenges.  As heir apparent I agree completely with the Queen that changes must be made.  If we are to survive we must be able to deal and negotiate on a level with those around us.  The Elves alone present a huge challenge with their depth of power.  Education is the way forward."  He sat down and looked to Thorin who signalled to Nari to do likewise.

 

"Thank you Fili" he replied.  "I agree wholeheartedly with your vision and feel grateful that Erebor will be in such wise hands when I am gone.  The equal wisdom of the Queen will be yours for many years into your reign and I repeat Balin's view that she will add greatly to our future."

 

I looked down to where our hands touched.  I was only just getting used to being here with him.  The subject of our differing life expectancy had not yet arisen between us.  But he was right, and I allowed myself to look at a long future without him.  A cold hand seemed to touch my spine.  It was a prospect of intense loneliness.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the view, kudos and comments. they really keep me going! This is another short chapter, sorry.


	5. Bedchamber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and his wife become closer.

**Chapter 5**

 

**Bedchamber**

 

 

I sat alone that evening and stared into the fireplace.  Sadronniel had retired, she seemed to have aged a hundred years since our arrival, feeling her isolation as I did.  I felt low in spirits.  We Wood Elves draw our life force partly from the trees around us.  I was starving for greenery.   

 

A low knock startled me.  Had Sadronniel returned?  "Come," I said softly, and the door opened.  Not Sadronniel.  Thorin.  He hesitated on the threshhold as if unsure of his welcome.  I attempted a smile and he took this as permission to enter.

 

 

_She is pale, maybe ill.  She is not adjusting to this new life in Erebor.  It is my fault of course.  I went along with the marriage, thinking only and always of the need of my people for trade and protection.  But it is too late now._

 

 

"I would know if you are comfortable my wife," he said, his low voice resonant in the chamber.  "The Council meeting was difficult for you I am sure."

 

"As expected," I sought his eyes but they avoided mine.  "Sit, if you wish,  my husband."  He complied, looking awkward on the edge of the seat as if seeking a quick exit.  

 

"I apologise for the rigid minds of some of my Council," he continued.  "I shared this rigidity until I knew you.  But I fear that this change is one too many for them."  He gazed down at his clasped hands, still avoiding my gaze.  

 

"They will never accept me."  My voice was a blank, as was my spirit.  "This is a farce."

 

He looked then. "No," he said but I suspected that  secretly he agreed with me. 

 

"But yes, Thorin.  I will attempt to find a role, I will work for Erebor, but the hearts of the people are not mine and how could they be?  An Elf in Erebor?  We should never have agreed to this joke of my father's."

 

His eyes were unreadable.  The firelight flickered there, reflected as in dark glass.  We were silent and I thought him to be quietly acknowledging the truth of my statement.  

 

 

_She looks devastated.  Is her future truly this hopeless, trapped with a people who reject her, in a loveless marriage, and nowhere else to go?  If I cannot help her, no-one can._

 

 

Then he rose.  "No!" he rasped, striding to the fire and back.   "He has not won, and he has no place here.  He will not even be mentioned between us!"  He turned to me and unexpectedly  raised me, the strength of his stocky arms lifting me under the arms with ease.  He faced me towards him, looking into my face earnestly.  "We will fight," he urged.

 

"Against them all?" I said bitterly.  The Council, my father, the world and its prejudice?"  He flinched at the repetition of my father's name.  "The marriage was intended as a joke, a shackle for you and the means of the weakening of your power here in Erebor.  And his plan is working.  If I remain here I will bring you down.  They will turn to the old ways, and a leader who will uphold them."

 

 

_Her vision is perceptive and frightening.  My people are above all set in their ways, content with our culture as it stands.  Why should anything change, if it works?  And Dwarrow leaders are not despots.  Erebor Dwarrows, now a mix of Iron Hills and Blue Hills incomers, will  not tolerate too much change, it is true.  Certain of their number are all too ready to send for my cousin Dain to rule in my place.  Dwalin is constantly warning me of the threat to my rule._

 

He shook his head slowly, his eyes never wavering in their hold over mine.  "They will never succeed in overthrowing my line.  Erebor is mine, built by my Grandfather, won by my own blood and sword.  My heirs are behind us, as are the Company.  Dissension will be dealt with." 

 

I wrenched my eyes from his, ashamed of the tears that sprang there.  I could not be the downfall of this great King.  But he lifted my chin, wiping my eyes with his broad, work-worn thumb.  "We are bonded," he whispered. The intensity of those eyes held mine once more.  "Not a love match, not an easy one, but for life.  Until you are released by my death."

 

I was shocked by the stark brutality of his statement.  _His death_.  A fact to be faced,  now, between us, and never hidden.  

 

"Thorin," I whispered.  "How old are you?"  I truly did not know.  How could I tell?

 

"I am close to two hundred years old," he said levelly.  "Your age?"

 

"Four hundred," I replied.  "Young."  I dared the question.  "You?"

 

"Aging," he replied simply.  "I have maybe another fifty years."

 

"Then let us use them wisely," I said.  He nodded in agreement. We sat at the table once more.

 

 

_I have been considering the aging gap between us, these past few days. The span of her days seems inconceivable to me.  How will she fill them?  Do Elves need to plan at all?  Do they just drift through life like an ever-flowing river, leading to who knows destination? And as their time to leave for the Grey Havens approaches, do they welcome it?  Or do they fear the change?_

 

 

He seemed completely unaffected by the prospect of his own death.  We Elves have no concept of how such a brief candle of a life would feel.   How these short-spans kept their sanity was beyond me.  Why were they not frantic with the desire for achievement?  With so few years of adulthood, how did they choose the way from myriad ways to spend them?  Our eyes were locked.  I saw that he questioned my thoughts.  "Thorin, how do you see my future without you?" I asked.  It was something I had never considered.  "Do you expect me to return to him?"  

 

He knew who I meant of course.  His expression showed shock.  "No!" he said explosively.  "Why by Mahal should you?  He must never hold power over you again!"

 

His anger amazed me.  "But where else should I go?"   Suddenly my time here seemed incredibly short.  A blink really.  I had been envisaging Erebor as my whole future.

 

"Go?  Why would you go?  Unless you wished to of course?  You are Queen.  Your role will be one of wise counsel to Fili and his heirs."  This answer was very satisfactory. I smiled.

 

 

_She seems content with the prospect of spending her years with my people.  This amazes me.  Her courage is endless, it seems.  I surprise a feeling of affection creeping around my heart.   She is my wife._

 

 

He touched my hand gently.  I looked at our hands where they lay together on the table.  He moved his fingers away from  mine but I closed the gap once more, and smiled again.  I felt nervous but strangely content.  As I met his eyes once more he returned the smile very tentatively.  I had never seen him smile before.  His face was transformed beyond recognition.  

 

"Forgive me for my previous attitude to you and your people," he said, his voice low.  I could see that great effort went into each word.  "I painted all with the brush which should have been reserved for Thranduil alone, I see that now."

 

I could barely believe what I heard.  His attitude towards me, had in fact, been consistently correct.  But he had never disguised his contempt for Elves in general.  We had, of course, done nothing to succour his people in their need  after Smaug's arrival.  I hung my head.  "I should apologise, not you," I said.  "I, with the rest of my kind, did nothing to help you when the firedrake came.  I shame to remember my own lack of interest in the event.  I merely continued with my life of art, reading and music."

 

His rough fingers lifted my chin slowly.  "You were a child in Elf terms.  You merely followed his wishes."

 

I nodded mutely, horrified to feel tears springing to my eyes again.  Was I still that child, to pity myself so?  He touched my wet eyes once more.  "Do not sorrow," he whispered.  "You are home now."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please comment!!


	6. Educating Dwarrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen begins her work.

 

Thorin's seeming acceptance of my ideas for Erebor, expressed at the council meeting, encouraged me to make an early start.  The next day I consulted with Balin and Ori, as the only literate Dwarrows I was certain of bar Thorin.  Both were hesitantly interested in my education plans.  Balin was able to supply me with current population figures.  

 

"These are constantly changing," he explained, "with the influx from the Blue Hills and some from the Iron Hills.  Sadly there have been few births since Erebor was re-occupied."

 

I was shocked by this.  Dwarrows' lives were so fleeting.  How could they hope to replace themselves with so few births, and only one female baby born in the past two years?  Balin was stoical about the figures.  "Our numbers have been falling since the loss of Erebor, but now I am convinced they will improve, as Dwarrows begin to feel more settled and confident here."  

 

Ori shuffled uneasily.  "It is usual for the Royal Family to set a precedent," he added.  "Thorin's mother had three children , one a girl, a large number."

 

I was glad of my Elvish ability to hide my feelings.  This was something with which I would never be able to help.  Not only had Thorin made it clear that our marriage was in name only, Elves and Dwarves were not, as far as I was aware, capable of producing offspring.  Thinking about pregnancy had given me ideas, however.   I was curious about the possibilities.  If only I had access to the medical knowledge of my people, there may be ways to increase fertility amongst Dwarrows.  My father would certainly not help us but the  knowledge of medicine of Wood Elves was in any case inferior to that of Lord Elrond's people at Rivendell.  I was sure he would help.  He had shown no prejudice against me when we had met in the past.  I made a mental note to contact him as soon as possible. 

 

But today's meeting was supposed to be about education.  I sent a half-smile in Ori's direction.  He was looking more uncomfortable by the second, as my silence drew out.  

 

"We shall give priority to the young that we do have." I stated.  "Then we will consider which adults may gain benefit from literacy."

 

Balin looked confused.  "Adults?  Why would adults wish to learn new skills?"

 

I hid my surprise.  "Dwarrow adults do not learn?" I asked.

 

"There is no need," Balin said.  They have a trade, they carry it out.  What other way is there?"

 

I needed to tread lightly.  "You have new circumstances now," I pointed out gently.  "Changes in trades may be necessary, if you have too many with one skill, too few with another, for example.  The need for archivists is just one example.  Dwarrows could learn to research  medical skills or new techniques for obtaining ore..."

 

It seemed I had gone too far.  The two Dwarrows looked dumbfounded.  Maybe I should speak to Thorin about these ideas first.

 

"Anyway, let us at least make a list of young Dwarrows who may enjoy learning to read Khuzdul  and ancient Khuzdul, or Westron."  I thought it too early to mention Sindarin.

 

Balin and Ori still appeared doubtful.  I was aware that I would not be able to use the small amount of Khuzdul I had quietly picked up.  It was banned for outsiders.  I was obviously not even meant to mention the Dwarf language.  

 

But Ori perked up.  "If you _were_ looking for adult teachers, Bifur may be your man!  He is fluent in Ancient Khuzdul!"

 

I looked at him encouragingly.  Well, at least it was a start.

 

 

That night as Thorin and I dined in his chambers, I tentatively broached the subject of education once more.  I felt particularly frustrated by the ruling against outsiders learning Khuzdul.  I felt I would be far more useful within Erebor if I understood this part of my husband's culture.  I had slim hope though, for this ban had been absolute throughout Dwarrow history.  

 

I looked covertly at Thorin to gauge his mood.   I had quickly learned that his mercurial temperament occasionally made it impossible to get any reason out of  him.  I had not yet been the victim of this but had seen it in Council and knew it was only a matter of time before I fell foul of it.  He caught my look and raised an eyebrow.  "Is there something on your mind, wife?" he demanded irritably.  My heart sank. I knew that he had had a particularly trying day trying to follow his mining chief's convoluted predictions for production into the winter.  It seemed I had chosen the wrong time but how to replace my difficult request with a harmless one?   

 

"I have been debating adult education with Balin and Ori," I began.

 

He looked more irritated.  "Yes, you informed me of that plan this morning.  I have not yet forgotten, despite my Dwarrow thick-skulled memory."  

 

 

_The second the words leave my mouth I  see how I have hurt her.  'She is only trying to be useful,' I remind myself.  But my head aches as though Smaug himself has been roaring in my ears all day, not my engineer.  I rub my forehead wearily and attempt to concentrate my thoughts.  I cannot afford to distress her.  All the effort we have both made to meet half-way between our cultures can be destroyed this easily._

 

 

I looked down and crumbled my bread on its plate.  My damned nerves were getting the better of me.  We Elves had a reputation for serenity but this was yet another way in which I was deficient, as I had been reminded constantly by my father.  I looked up and met the  eyes of my husband.  I had expected  more annoyance but was surprised too see a softened look.  I felt him take my hand.  "I apologise," he said reassuringly.  "I should not have taken my bad mood out on you.  It is not your fault that I could not  understand the figures with which my engineer has been pummeling me all day.  So you see I am indeed thick-skulled."  He smiled encouragingly.

 

"Thank you," I responded gratefully.  "I know that my nerves are irritating.  My father..."

 

"You should remember that I am a more reasonable creature than your parent," he grated.  I raised my eyes again and saw humour spread across his face.  "At least, I sincerely hope so."

 

I sighed with relief.  "You are indeed superior in every way to the unmentionable Elf," I smiled.  While he was preening a little I decided to press my advantage.  "And I do have something to ask you.  A personal request, if you like."  

 

Now he laughed, that full, hearty laugh of his people.  "You flatter me for your own purposes I see," he said with a humour which surprised me.  "You are a female like all females after all!"  

 

 

_She has turned my mood with her artful femininity.  I surprise a feeling of warmth and fondness towards her.  The softness of her skin where her hand lies within mine soothes me.  I stroke her fingers, long and slender compared with mine.   Each nail is pearl white and beautiful.  On a whim I lift the fingers to my lips and graze them, before recollecting myself and relinquishing the hand hurriedly.  Confused emotions seem to cloud my thoughts._

 

 

I blushed, taken aback by this sign of affection from my husband. I breathed deeply, trying to slow the thudding of my heart, then plunged.  "I want to learn Khuzdul," I said, and waited for an explosion.   

 

He was silent.  He looked closely at me.  Then he nodded. "I never would have imagined a circumstance where I would agree to this," he said, "but you are not only Erebor's queen, but will be so for centuries to come.   You will indeed need this skill."

 

I was silenced.  I realised  that my mouth was open and closed it.  "Are you sure?" I asked him.  "Many will disagree with this decision.  It will give them ammunition against you."  

 

"I trust you," he said simply.  And his dark eyes held mine.  

 

 

"Thank you Thorin,' I said simply.  I had rarely used his name.  He smiled then winced. His hand went to his forehead.  "A headache?" I asked with sympathy.  Dwarrow seemed to suffer far more than elves with this complaint.  I was sure that all those fierce emotions caused it, but kept my ideas to myself.  Instead of speaking I tentatively lifted my hand to his brow, raising my eyebrows questioningly.  He nodded wearily, then lowered his shaggy head to his hands on the table. I massaged his head gently, using a technique taught to me by Elrond's therapists.  Thorin sighed with relief.  Not such a thick-skull.

 

 

_She is an angel.  The coolness of her fingers touching my scalp is like a gift. The pain disperses seemingly at her command. I have spent my life hating and fearing Elvish magic.  Now it is a blessing._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for any errors and for the delay in writing! Hope you like this chapter.


	7. Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen's health is declining

 

 

There were difficulties in gaining exercise within the dark bounds of Erebor.  In the Woodland Realm I walked, rode and practiced archery in the sun-spotted glades.   Here there was no sunlight, no leafy roof.  I explored on foot, my necessary guard stomping noisily behind me.  But try as I might one cold stone tunnel appeared like any other, with little to interest me, save the dull gleam of minerals locked within the walls. Some areas were still unoccupied, stale and dank from the time of Smaug's habitation.  There was a melancholy atmosphere which invaded my bones.  Despair grew within my mind daily.  

 

I tried to be useful, was making inroads with the affection of my new people, who were beginning to appreciate my efforts for their children's education if not for their own. Classes had started, led by Ori, Balin and myself in shifts.  Now they were running smoothly they took up little of my time.  Ori was awaiting a reply from Lord Elrond on the subject of medical knowledge. I played my lute, alone, as Thorin never seemed to have time, and took up embroidery.  Very conventional, very dull.  Very lonely.     

 

One day I found myself walking in a deep corner of Erebor when suddenly presented with an dark drop.  A stone skittered from the foot of my guard as he lunged forward to stop my progress at the edge.  The stone fell silently for an age before the clatter of its landing echoed up the shaft.  A cold clammy wave swept me as the guard berated my lack of caution.  He spoke Khuzdel in his shock.  But I understood his meaning from his fierce tone and even a couple of words, thanks to my own studies.  They were not polite words.

 

_The extent to which my wife has made a place for herself in my life is brought home to me shockingly, one ordinary day.  Her guard returns fuming from their daily walk.  "The Queen will be the death of me!" he shouts.  She has a death-wish!  Though Queen she is a Dwarrowdam and must be curbed!"  Though unimpressed by his way of speaking to his King, I see his point.  I blanch as he describes her near death in an abyss.  I pacify him and he goes muttering to his quarters.  Left alone I allow myself to understand the depth of my shock.  I have not wanted to marry, to an Elf in particular, but now she seems indispensable to me.  Erebor needs her...  I need her._

 

 

Back in my rooms that night I was given a dressing down by Thorin.  "Your foolish wanderings will cut short that long life you were speaking of!" He raged.  "If you cannot be sensible and keep to illuminated areas I will forbid your explorations entirely.  Why you have to...

 

I was still suffering from shock and my temper rose to match his.  "Provide me with an alternative and I will be glad to oblige you!  My choice is darkness and chilled bones or the press of the noisy crowd in the few lit areas.  If you can call them lit, which I do not, considering the primitive nature of your smoky sheep fat torch illumination!  It is barbaric.  How can anyone live in this stifling dungeon?"

 

I stopped and lowered my eyes, ashamed with my outburst.  It was not his fault, nor the fault of anyone.   Erebor was barely clinging on to civilised living and Dwarrows preferred these caverns, I knew that and had always known what I would be facing.  "I apologise," I muttered, "that was uncalled for." 

 

"Indeed," he replied with dignity, lifting my chin with those roughened, gentle fingers.  His eyes probed mine and I knew he could see into the bleakness of my mind.  "You have been with us for two months have you not?  But you have not left Erebor in that time.  The problem is clear and to my shame I have never considered it.  You are light-deprived, wife, and need to go outside."   

 

I felt  a small  tide of relief rising within me.  It  surfaced in a tiny smile which Thorin acknowledged with a nod and smile of his own.  "We will go tomorrow," he said quietly.  And seek relief for you.  It is only fair, given your efforts in the field  of medicine for our people."

 

I thanked him gravely but inside felt far more joy than I dared display.  For I understood that my happiness was as much due to the prospect of time spent with my husband, as to the chance of light and air.

 

_I cannot afford the time for jaunts.  But the event makes me prioritise my wife's needs.  To the disgust of the council I declare my intent to take a day to personally assess the ruins of Dale.  As I reassure them that Fili is more than capable of dealing with plumbing and miners' complaints, I see several grey heads laid together and beards wagging in disapproval. Imagine if I were to tell them the truth about my 'holiday'.  It is a timely reminder that I must watch my enemies._

 

 

The following morning saw us leave Erebor for the first time since my arrival.  The light was so bright that I blinked and shielded my eyes.  I had become a hole dweller.  Thorin himself seemed pleased to be away from his responsibilities for a day.  As we rode away along the valley towards the ruins of Dale, our bodyguard of four keeping a discreet distance, we noticed the greening that was beginning to become noticeable in Smaug's desolation.  Spring had arrived without my noticing. 

 

 

In the ruined town square we stopped and dismounted. The guard made themselves discreetly invisible.  As I sat on the stump of a stone column, Thorin moved around scanning the ruins.  "I hope that we are not here so that you can work, my husband," I said, a small note of teasing in my voice.  "This _is_ a holiday is it not?"

 

He came towards me, smiling.  "I apologise," he replied.  "Assessment of repairs has become a habit with me, of necessity.  I will endeavour to adopt a suitably jovial manner."

 

I laughed, taking myself by surprise.  "Jovial is a word I do not associate with you, Thorin."

 

"And a laugh something I never thought to see on your face, my wife."  He reached out and took my hand in his.  "I am sorry to see that you are so pale, however. I am not proud of the effect of Erebor on your health. Something must be done about it."

 

"Such as what?" I asked.  "We live in a mountain.  It is dark inside mountains.  And that is not your fault."

 

He frowned.  "You are an Elf, and need light.  I should have considered that before.  I would not have you suffer year after year.  You would decline."

 

"I will cope, if I can have more days like this.  Maybe.... twice every week?"

 

"Over ambitious my Elf.  Erebor cannot spare men for your security that often."  He considered, looking at me closely.  "Monthly."

 

"What?" I nearly shouted.  My father's views of the effects of prolonged exposure to Dwarrows would be more than confirmed, I thought, if he could hear the volume that came from my mouth these days.  I moderated my voice hastily.  "Um, then I say weekly."

 

Thorin laughed.  "You may bargain hard, my Queen, but I cannot magic Guards into existence,   unlike your relatives.   Fortnightly.  And then I am crippling Erebor."  His mouth twitched.  I did not believe him.  But I saw sense.

 

"Fortnightly it is."  I held out my hand for a business-like handshake.  I knew Dwarrows used these, when bargaining with men, and even, occasionally and reluctantly, so did Elves. 

 

"Am I a human that you offer me your hand?  Do you not trust my word?" But his eyes gleamed and I knew that he saw the joke.  "Fortnightly.  You have my word as King."  

 

"I want your word as husband."  I was enjoying our intimate adventure and was determined to emphasise our new closeness.

 

"My word as husband," he said, his voice low.  He certainly did not want his guards to hear us.

 

 

_Within our banter I conceal my genuine fears for her health.  No Elf has tried to live amongst Dwarrows.  No one knows the long-term effects.  Will short trips make up for a way of life that is completely hostile for her species? I watch her anxiously._

 

 

"So now the picnic," I continued, moving over to the ponies and bringing a soft leather bag back to where he stood, looking at me now in disbelief.

 

"Picnic.  You think me an Elf now.  Or a Hobbit who has time for such frivolities?"

 

I laughed loudly at that.  I had met Mr Baggins, the famous hobbit who helped to liberate Erebor, at Rivendell where I was visiting during his return journey.  I knew exactly what Thorin meant by frivolities!    

 

"No, but this _is_ our holiday."  I raised my eyebrows at him indicating that I was being firm about this.  He took the hint and sat on a nearby block of masonry with a sigh. 

 

"Very well.  But no word of this must reach Dwalin.  I would never live it down."  I laughed again at his petulant frown, and handed him a leg of roast chicken.

 

_She is like a tender plant lifting its head after a rain shower.  All signs of the wilting has vanished.  But I suspect her of hiding the worst of her depression.  Once again my admiration for her grows.  She is so strong, despite her adversities.   Dwarrows consider Elves to be weak, flimsy almost.  How wrong are the views of my people about hers._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken so long to update. I seem to have so little energy now the dark is coming. But the new film is out soon, so enthusiasm is growing!
> 
> Thanks for reading, please feel free to comment or add kudos!!!!


	8. A Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Thorin help his wife?

 

 

_I have thought long and hard about a solution to my wife's difficulties.  During these long months we have managed some further trips outside, Fili and Kili have also taken her hunting, but the Queen's health continues to decline, her energy minimal. She does not complain.  In the darkness of Erebor I doubt others have even noticed her pale face and the trembling of her hands.  But I fear for her, and my frustration grows._

 

 

I was woken by Sadronniel to find it was nearly noon.  Not that the sun at its zenith made any impact within Erebor.  Sadronniel gently smoothed the hair out of my eyes, her old face full of sympathy.

 

"You must wake my love," she whispered.  "The dwarrows will notice your absence if you sleep all day." She placed her lamp on my bedside table and lifted a cup to my lips.  "Drink this for it should help."  I sipped gratefully and quickly felt the benefit of one of my old friend's elixirs.  There was no magic in it but I felt strength flow through my veins.  It would get me through my few duties for another tedious day in the dark.

 

Sadronniel herself was feeling the effects of the darkness and was as tired as I. I was full of admiration for her stoicism. As she dressed me I noticed that she was nursing a small smile.  My curiosity peaked. "What is it Sadronniel? It is long since I have seen that smile. It suggests conspiracy," I said archly.  

 

The smile vanished.  "Your perception does not ail my Lady.  If I let you guess the King will... "  She bowed her head, in shame it seemed.  "There, I'm an old fool.  Please don't tell him..."

 

"All I know if that you seem to have given your heart to my husband.  A few months ago you would barely speak to him.  Now you are in his confidence while I am not."

 

"My Lady!"  She was shocked.  Not that much in love then.   

 

"What is it?" I repeated.  

 

"Wait and see," she said, recovering some of her old confidence.

 

 

As I joined the royal family and councillors for lunch, I saw that my husband was deep in conversation with Balin and Fili.  There seemed little chance of conversation as I ate.  I picked at my food without enthusiasm.  My appetite was non-existent.  I felt eyes on me and looked up to lock glances with Thorin's younger nephew Kili.  He was a high-spirited big-hearted and mostly empty-headed youth.  But he was a favourite of mine, for his joy in life and his close resemblance to my husband.  I sometimes wondered if I was getting a glimpse of Thorin's own youth, in better days, but it was hard to believe that the King has ever been so light-hearted.  Now Kili was looking at me with concern.

 

"You are looking ill, Aunt," he said bluntly.  I looked around nervously.  I did not want  attention drawn to my health.  He noticed my look and lowered his voice, continuing.  "I am going hunting this afternoon, if you would like to join me.  I know that air and light do you good."  

 

I looked at him gratefully.  About to agree with enthusiasm, I was interrupted by a glare and low words from my husband, who sat at the other end of the table but obviously had eagle ears.  "My wife will be otherwise occupied, nephew."

 

Kili sighed and furrowed his brow.  He was oppressed by his uncle's dark tone.  I could see that he was about to protest and endeavoured to save him from further displeasure.  "Thank you Kili, for your kind thought," I said, returning Thorin's  glare with equal measure.  I was not impressed by Thorin's treatment of this kind boy and had told him so. To no avail.

 

Thorin ignored me and returned to his conversation with Balin, who, however, sent me a kind look.  I went back to picking at my food, desperate to return to my quarters.

 

 

_I can see that I have upset her.  I have been nursing this  surprise for months and wish only her happiness but I cannot resist making it a secret to the end.  And if others think I am angry with Kili for jealousy of the time they spend together, then they are in error._

 

 

I was in the Royal Corridor when Thorin caught up with me.  "Wife, I would speak with you," he growled.    

 

"Yes?" I turned to wait for him.  

 

"I have the rest of the  afternoon to be with you," he continued.  My heart softened and I met his eyes.  "Do not be angry with me," he said softly, "for I would prefer that you were with myself than Kili. My intention was not to upset him."  

 

"You need to..."

 

"Yes, yes wife I need to treat him with kindness.  I remember what you have said.  But  practice is more difficult than intention.  I will spend some time with him this evening and remedy the situation.  But now it is time for a little walk."  I could almost have believed that a tiny smile curled his lip, if it were not so dark in the corridor.  Wordlessly I extended my hand toward him and he led me away.

 

 

_My heart pounds so that I think she must hear it.  The moment is so close and I know not how she will react.  Is this the answer, or a poor substitute?  The council I received months ago by letter from my Hobbit friend and from Rivendell (for I will not write to her father, even now) makes me optimistic of success but only time will tell._

 

 

We were in an area of Erebor unknown to me.  All my wanderings had not found this place.  It was far into the mountain, so far that I would believe that we may be close to the back door, if there were such a thing.  But like the rest of  our Kingdom it was dark.  Dark, and cold.

 

Until we rounded a corner.  A corner after many corners, like all the other corners.  And a glow.  The glow was golden, not flickering taper light, but golden like the sun.  And air.  Fresh air came to me like honey.  I breathed it, and froze, and ran.  I ran, in the dark, with Thorin's voice protesting and echoing behind me.  This time I did not trip.  I did not fall, as the light guided me I felt my feet fly towards the light, and the air.  Then I stopped.  My mouth fell open as Thorin caught up with me, panting, and I felt his hand take mine. We stood, and I drank it in.  There were trees.  Trees in a mountain.  There was air, breezes worthy of Zephyr moving through the leaves which danced in the breeze and the light.  The sun.  The sun was in Erebor.  Inside the mountain.  A sun.  A glowing ball of gold...  Gold.  The sun was a ball of gold, lit by a window in the mountain.  Like a mirror it threw light and it filled the cavern.  Trees filled the space which seemed to go on forever.  And air from the window filled my lungs.  

 

Thorin had made a wood.  A wood in the mountain.  

 

"It is the wood of Vanadesse," he whispered his hold of my hand gentle.

 

"Vanadesse? My wood?" I breathed.

 

"A wood for a beautiful woman, that she may keep her beauty." 

 

"How do you know..."

 

"The meaning of your name?  I do know my way around a book, Mizimeluh.  Your name describes you perfectly."  And my husband turned to face me.  He held my chin in his hard, gentle hands, he lifted it, he touched his lips to mine.  "You are indeed a beautiful woman Vanadesse.  A beautiful Elf.  A beautiful Dwarf.  My beautiful wife.  No ears but ours know this."

 

I look into his eyes and I cannot believe what I am hearing.  Beautiful. I.  And a kiss.  I hold his eyes and I hold his hand and I breathe in my wood.  

 

 

_I hear my words and I cannot believe that I have allowed them to pass my lips.  A political marriage.  This is political._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mizimeluh = jewel of jewels  
> Vanadesse = beautiful woman (Elvish)
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments. I am very grateful and very keen to continue!


	9. Reject

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all looked so promising.

 

 

I spent many hours in my wood.  It brought me peace and contentment, even though it was inside the mountain.  I suspected that a great part of my pleasure came from the knowledge that my husband had moved his mountain for me, his wife in name only.  But I buried that idea.  It would not do to dwell on wish fulfillment. 

 

Over our private meals he described to me the process by which my wood had been created.  It seemed unbelievable to me.Elrond had found texts in his library describing the translation of adult trees from one location to another and their nurturing.  He also knew the secret of planting indoors because Rivendell had such trees in abundance.  Bilbo also added his plant lore.  He suggested plants to cover the forest floor which would thrive indoors with care.  Dwarrow engineers had devised a cunning system of pipes which supplied water to the forest cavern.  Briefly I wondered what my father would make of this interior wonder.  Then I perceived that he would reject the idea as preposterous, Dwarrows would be incapable of such a feat.  I knew that Elrond would not inform him of its existence.  They had little in common.

 

I smiled at Thorin.  I was full of wonder at the lengths he had gone to for me, his Elvish wife.  

 

 

_She is so beautiful.  Her health restored, she glows with power, a goddess.  My feelings for her are mixed.  How can I forget that she is an Elf, daughter of the Enemy?  The one who abandoned us.  But... I want her.  I want to touch her, to run my fingers through her glorious hair, black as night.  It cannot be._

 

 

"Thank you husband," I whispered, my eyes never leaving his.  No-one had ever given me such a gift.  Did he understand that?  I thought not.  I reached for his hand and touched his fingers gently.  A rush of affection for him took me by surprise, it was undisciplined  for an Elf to feel such sudden changes in emotion.  These days I barely knew what I was.

 

"It was necessary," he said simply, but his sudden concentration on his bread told me everything. I was coming to know Dwarrow-kind, and they did not like fuss.  I changed the subject.

 

 

I saw little of Thorin for a while after that, beyond our obligatory meals.  His focus was now on agriculture, a scheme suggested by Mr Baggins to reduce Erebor's dependence on my father's 'good will'.  It seemed that Bilbo was expected for a visit, when he would select the best land for cultivation, and arrange for plants to be brought from Laketown. I looked forward to seeing the Hobbit once more.  We had books and learning in common.  Meanwhile I missed Thorin's company, and began to feel puzzled by the withdrawal I felt.  He was not meeting my eyes as he used to.  

 

After days of this I spoke to Balin, such was my confusion.  He merely mumbled and, like Thorin, would not quite meet my eyes.  Thorin was busy.  He was sure nothing was wrong.  I wondered, and I did not speak of it to him again.  

 

One day Thorin arrived late for our meal.  I had begun to think he was not going to come at all, but as I pushed my barely-touched plate away, the door to his quarters opened and he stamped into the room.  He slung his coat and weaponry onto a chair and after washing his hands joined me.  

 

 

_What to say, how to tell her?  Mahal life is cruel.  She has given everything.  But I understand their feelings, I shared them once.  What to do?_

 

 

He did not look at me,  but proceeded to tear at his bread angrily.  Whose head did that loaf represent?  I restrained my shiver and spoke tentatively.

 

"A bad day, my husband?"

 

"Bad," he grunted, still not looking at me.  

 

"May I ask why?"

 

"Dissidents, traitors, fools!"  he burst out, and I only just avoided a flinch.  I waited patiently for more.  It soon came.  "Three years!  For three years I have ruled here, I have worked day and night and they are never satisfied.  The water supplies.  The food.  The crumbling walls.  The birth rate.  The  _bloody tree shagging Elves_..." He froze, his eyes finally meeting mine, full of horror.

 

 

_Another disaster, this of my own making.  Aule I am a fool.  I thought I could control it, please them all...  I have pleased no-one.  I have been blind.  To the views of my people.  To the needs of my wife.  To my own feelings.  I love her.  And I hate her._

 

 

I left.  I had reached my own chamber door when he caught up with me.

 

"I'm sorry, sorry," he said brokenly.  "I don't mean it, you know that..."

 

"Do I?" I said coldly.  "Even you Thorin?  I thought I had left that behind.  It seems that can never happen.  I don't want to feel it, but I do, even I who am not even a true Elf, just a freak..."

 

"Not a true Elf?  What do you mean?"  He grabbed my shoulder, none too gently, and pushed me into my room, slamming the door behind us.  He had never entered my chamber with me before.   I dropped into a chair while he paced.  "Of course you are an Elf, that is the whole problem isn't it?" 

 

My eyes were round.  What was this?  He had never admitted so much, had been so reassuring.  "Problem?"  I said in a small voice.

 

"Problem. Crisis. Disaster.  Mistake!"  he grated.

 

"Mistake?"  Our marriage, he meant our marriage.  A mistake.  But I had always known it of course.  Cold gripped me.  

 

He finally stopped pacing and faced me.  "A mistake," he said heavily.  I should have known it could not work, would be rejected by the people."

 

_"What has happened Thorin?"_

 

"A plot.  Nori found them.  Dwalin arrested them.  They have implicated fifty more.  There will be trials, punishments..."

 

"Because of me." My voice was flat.

 

"Of course because of you!" he roared.

 

I covered my face with my hands. Groped from the chair to the door.  Tried to open it.  Failed.  He was there before me.  His arms went around me.  "No, no, Mizimeluh.  I'm sorry, so sorry.  I don't...  Mahal help me, I don't blame you.  I have every respect for you and I should never have uttered those words.  But it is the others, the ignorant.  They cannot separate you from the others.  Despite all you have brought to Erebor.  They will never understand."

 

"Never accept me. The plot was to kill me?"

 

"You, me, my family.  To install Dain."

 

We were silent.

 

Then, "I'll go, I must go," I declared.  "It is the only way.  I will not destroy your House."

 

 

_Leave?  Is she mad?  Thranduil will never accept it.  He will have retribution.  He will nullify our agreement, starve Erebor.  We need her.  I need her.  I want her, I must.... I love her. She cannot leave me. I will keep her, I will have her..._

 

His voice was desperate.  "No, we will not let them win.  We will punish them and..."

 

"And become tyrants?  Not you, not me.  We cannot go down that road.  It's over, Thorin."

 

And I knew that I had spoken the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, poor Thorin. Will his toy be taken away, or will he chuck it out of his pram all by himself?


	10. Here today gone tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The vanishment of Vanadesse

_The fifty are punished, despite my wife's views.   A king has to be the strongest, the most powerful, the  harshest in the kingdom, or we are lost.  She will never understand this despite her knowledge of the cold Elf who is her father.  If I were to show mercy I would be finished, and  that is that.  The ring-leaders are executed, the rest imprisoned.  The council show approval but I am aware, thanks to Nori's hidden work, that at least three of its members are suspect.  If he gets proof, the council will need new members._

 

_Sitting wearily in my study I feel only despair.  This is not the way I want to rule but the way I must do it.  A knock and Fili enters.  His long face echoes mine.  Green as he is, he is more horrified than I by the necessity of iron rule but already understands it. How fortunate I am to have such an heir._

 

_"Dwalin reports all is quiet," he states flatly.  "For now anyway."_

 

_I motion him to sit. He needs reassurance I know.  The responsibility weighs heavily on his young shoulders.  Kili, even greener, is kept well away from the decision._

 

_"Have you spoken to the queen?" he asks, wrinkling his forehead.  My nephews  are fond of her and fear her reaction to our actions I know._

 

_"No.  I will inform her tonight.  She will be angry I know."_

 

_"She knows us Dwarrows now," he responds.  "She will understand."_

 

_"Never," I say gloomily.  "She is soft like all her sex, Elf or Dwarf."_

 

_"Save my mother."_

 

_I smile. "Save your mother.  But she will learn to live with it, I am certain."_

 

_But will she?  Not only soft but fiercely moral, eternally optimistic for Erebor's future.  I have not communicated with her for days.  Yes, we talk, but the words are sham.  Beneath them, silence._

 

 

Beyond the gate the coast was clear.  Erebor was strangely quiet after the trials and punishments, of which Thorin thought I was ignorant. A simple lie to Bifur supervising the entrance  persuaded him to turn his back. Keen to put some distance between Erebor and myself I rode my pony hard, glad of the Elven cloak which provided some cover from prying eyes.  It was a long journey to Rivendell and I knew he would seek me but my knowledge led me to paths little known to any but Elves. He would rage but I could not stay, heavy with guilt for the deaths at Erebor.  The marriage was a mistake, we both knew it, and our own feelings must be put aside, or mine at least for I knew not how he felt.  I would not cause more destruction within the society I had grown to love.

 

 

_She is not missed for ten hours.  My anger at my own neglect causes me to to treat Sadronniel more savagely than necessary.  I roar at her when she refuses to talk.  To no avail.  She knows nothing.  Apparently.  Of course she knows everything but Elves are devious, however old and frail they may appear.  Retreating to my study with Dwalin, Balin and Nori, Ori and my anxious heirs, I put my head in my hands.  None of them have knowledge of her intentions.  She is gone, but as to her destination we are in the dark.  It is Balin who tentatively speaks.  "She would not return to her father, that is clear."  He sounds as though it is anything but clear, but encouraged by our looks of hope he continues. "She would not go to men.  She does not trust them any more than we.  So it is to Rivendell that she rides."_

 

_We all sit up straighter.  This does seem clear.  Of course Rivendell, given her fondness for Elrond, her near surrogate father.  He will take her in as he does all waifs and strays (except for Dwarrows, I think bitterly)._

 

_"That's it!" Dwalin shouts, leaping to his feet.  "We can still catch her, but if not, no matter.  Elrond cannot bar us from entry, not if he knows what is good for him!"_

 

_I feel he is overly optimistic but do not oppose him.  We have hope._

 

 

Elrond was not pleased to see me.  I expected nothing else of course, for he knew there would be trouble from both Thorin and Thranduil.  But he would not refuse me sanctuary,  our mutual affection was too strong.  Left alone after the dismissal of his agitated court, he listened to my explanation of my presence, then spoke seriously.  

 

"I understand your distress, Selde, but think of the consequences of your actions.  Your father holds Erebor hostage with his trade deal.  If he sees you rejected by Thorin, he will not scruple to stop all supplies immediately.  When winter draws in your people will starve."

 

"Thorin has not rejected me!  I have left of my own free will," I said indignantly.

 

"I know that but Thranduil will twist this to suit his purposes, you know that.  His hatred of Dwarrows in general and your husband in particular still drives him."

 

"He should be satisfied by what he sees as the humiliation of us both," I said bitterly.  "He knows nothing of the true success of our relationship.  I do not leave Thorin for personal reasons, but to save his kingship.  Without me he can restore his power and popularity."

 

Elrond frowned delicately.  "I do not share your optimism.  Rebels rise up because they wish for power.  They will still wish for it whatever your actions."

 

"Have you heard anything from the Iron Hills?  Is Dain responsible for the uprising, or is his name used without his knowledge?"

 

"I have heard nothing but I am sure Thorin will have sent for information.  If Dain openly supports him the rebels will lose their excuse."

 

I sat and sighed.  My enjoyment of life came from books and music. Politics left me bewildered by the treachery all around us.  I had thought that my leaving would free Thorin of danger but it seemed I might be wrong.  Even if Dain backed Thorin there was still the question of supplies.  I had no hope of influencing my father.  But Elrond was very powerful and my father feared him.  I turned to him eagerly.

 

"Rero, you could persuade Thranduil to honour his commitments, I am certain."

 

"If only you were right.  But Thranduil respects no-one, even Galadriel has failed to convince him, in the past, of his responsibilities towards his neighbours.  When Erebor fell he shamed all Elves with his lack of pity.  Thorin was so angry that he tarred us all with the same brush.  Only you, Vanadesse have mellowed him."

 

I attempted to hide my feelings of pain and failed.  The strong emotions I displayed shamed me before Elves.  Amongst Dwarrows I felt more at home. In my mind's eye I saw those  dark passionate eyes and I knew that Elrond could see my memories, though he was too gentle to distress me with his knowledge.  I wondered about the wisdom of my leaving Erebor.  Elrond was always capable of explaining, as to a child, the right path.  My head drooped.

 

 

_There is still no word from Dain when we leave Erebor.  Balin  and Fili stay behind to deal with business and I ride only with Kili, Dwalin and some 30 of his men.  Nori is out sniffing  for rumours of further uprising.  Not for the first time I feel gratitude for the former thief's work. I glance at Kili by my side.  He is full of gloom, no smiles inhabit his face today. I must bring Vanadesse home.  Kili is not alone in missing her. My attempts to hold Erebor feel pointless without her by my side. Dwalin catches my eye and nods grimly.  As usual his determination lifts me.   I feel ready to take on every Elf if it will retrieve my love._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> selde =daughter rero=kinsman
> 
> Thanks for reading, kudos and comments! all are much appreciated.


	11. A Friend in Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo arrives at Rivendell.

I felt humiliated by my conversation with Elrond.  Gentle as he had been, he made me feel like a foolish adolescent, running from my home with half-baked ideas of saving Thorin's rule by my own sacrifice.  As I leaned against my balcony my dark thoughts were relieved by the sight of movement around the gate.  Finally a small figure separated itself from the giants around it.  I recognised that figure.  Smiling I hustled out of my room and raced down the open  steps leading down to the entrance area.  

 

"Bilbo!" I shouted, lifting my skirts to run faster.  He looked up and his face split into a grin. 

 

"Vanadesse!" he shouted.  "Is Thorin with you, and the others?"

 

My smile retreated.  I reached him, embracing the slight body. "No, Bilbo, and it's a long explanation.  When you have greeted Elrond and eaten I must speak with you."

 

"In the library?" He understood my wish for privacy.  And as fellow scholars it was our natural home.  

 

 

 

_Which route has she taken?  My first instinct is to take the well-trodden path to Lake_ _Town and through the forest by the Elf path.  But would Vanadesse choose that route?  To pass so close by her father's stronghold seems unlikely to me. Like me she cannot bear him, it is a large part of our bond.  And I have no more wish than she to meet him. I cannot afford the delay while he drags me before his court to sneer at me. How else to reach Rivendell?_

 

 

 

 

As we had known, Bilbo was on his way to Erebor.  It seemed that he had become very enthusiastic about the idea of helping with our crop cultivation and fancied a more hands on role. I was thrilled to see him.  Neither Elf nor Dwarf he was a good listener, a great storyteller and wise in his own way.  He looked well, obviously pleased to be on his travels again.  We sat amongst the thousands of books and scrolls and looked at each other. Now the time had come I was unwilling to begin.  Having lived among both Dwarrows and Elves Bilbo saw no barriers between peoples, he would be disappointed by my action in leaving Thorin.  Sure enough, as I told  my tale his small face seemed to crumple and the light went out of his eyes.  

 

"They need you Vanadesse.  Heaven knows how they managed between me leaving and you arriving.  Thorin is dark and prickly as blackberry at the best of times.  Now he will sink into himself for certain."

 

I lowered my eyes, ashamed.  "Do not scold me as Elrond did, my friend.  I thought only of the good of Erebor when I left.  You know the stubbornness  of Dwarrows as well as I.  Thorin and the Company may have learned something of integration but as to the rest it is a different story.  Those others loathe my people, and despite my efforts and the slow spread of appreciation of my work in education and medicine, I am suspected.  It will always be so."

 

Bilbo took my stubby non-Elvish hand in his tiny one.  It was strangely comforting. "Don't despair," he said quietly.  "There's many a slip twixt cup and lip, and this is not over,  not by a long chalk.  If I still know my Dwarfish kings Thorin is not far behind you.  When he arrives at Rivendell my advice is to let him take you home.  He'll understand, if you tell him what you've told me.  Then you can work together on this problem.  If _Dwalin_ learned to accept _me_ into the company, those stiff-necked Ereborians can learn to love you." He smiled encouragingly then wiped my wet eyes with his ever-present handkerchief.  

 

 

 

_I follow my instinct and head South past Lake Town towards the old Dwarves Path or Old Forest Road.  We are the first Dwarrow party to try using it   since the fall of Dol Guldur.  I see that Dwalin's men look uncertain about this but Dwalin is well-able to 'encourage' them forward without my help.  I keep my own counsel about the wisdom of my decision.  In truth I have no idea if I am right but I feel her presence, like a trail left behind her.  I am becoming deluded, so great is the power of this Elf-woman over me._

 

 

 

 

Alone later on the balcony of my room I thought over the wisdom of my friends.  I had begun to wonder whether my precipitate exit from Erebor had any virtue whatever.  My father's scorn at my complete lack of serenity and reflection in decision-making came back like the sting of a nettle.  I rubbed my brow uncomfortably as his words came to me.  "Are you even my daughter?  Did my seeming virtuous spouse bind herself in lust to a licentious Dwarf who had wandered into the Greenwood? You are hot-blooded, irrational, stupid, dark-skinned and... short!"  In my memory he turned from me lip curling in disgust.  I could see the look of sorrow on my brother's face as he watched me.  But it was not in Legolas' power to disobey Thranduil, not then...

 

 

My mind turned to my life within Erebor:  the perpetual darkness; the warmth of my friends; the fear of my enemies; Thorin, dark eyes gleaming when he could not hide  his amusement.  Even were I to believe Elrond's counsel, should I return?  The marriage forced by my father had brought me near to death by assassination, accident and light deprivation.  It had brought both rebellion and enlightenment to the Lonely Mountain.  And were I to leave, could I ever forget those dark eyes ? I found my skin prickling at their recollection.

 

 

 

_I am at least right about the safety of the path.  We meet no spiders and emerge from the forest alive and well.  Our provisions have even lasted.  How different was our last passage. The long trek to the Misty Mountains is unremarkable and  we take the High Pass untroubled by goblins or rock giants.  Our quest has truly changed the world which now seems empty of enemies.  The journey has been quicker, on ponies throughout but as we near Rivendell I feel it is centuries since I have seen my wife, so much have I missed her._

  

 

 

 

Later I descended to the dining room.  Bilbo may understand Elvish culture but he still needed his Hobbit third breakfast. He tucked in as  I sipped an Elvish tea with the enthusiasm of one long parted from a favourite friend. While Bilbo demolished the second plate of eggs bacon and toast since his arrival,  Elrond joined us and poured a cup of tea from my pot for himself.  The silence of old friends fell over us.  To be broken by a sudden shout from the gate.  "My Lord Elrond - Dwarves!"

 

 

As my friends turned to look at me I could feel my skin blanch.  I could not face this in public.  No, I could not. Throwing down my napkin I took the stairs at a run and before I could recover my sanity was back in my room.  "Stupid, stupid. What do I think I am doing?  He is my husband, not my enemy."  My behaviour, already rash, now seemed foolish.  I walked onto my balcony and looked down into the courtyard, where many ponies and Dwarrows circled. None looked up but I returned to my room and began to pace, trying to decide whether to stick to my desire for privacy or swallow my pride and return to the others.

 

 

 

 

_Rivendell has been awakened by our arrival.  Elves rush out but the hostility is less overt than I remember.  Have they changed or have I?  I dismount quickly and seek out Elrond.  I know that I must at least make an attempt at civility towards him before finding my wife.  He looks grave and nods at me.  He has been expecting us.  So she is here then.  A stab of adrenalin pounds through my body as Elrond leads me inside.  But Vanadesse is nowhere to be seen._

 

 

 

 

In the end I paced myself into a true anxiety and took a third option.  I left my room and hurried along corridors and across porches and up and down staircases until I reached the silent and thankfully deserted sanctuary of the holy place housing the shards of Narsil. I sank down on a bench and rubbed my hot face against a cool stone pillar.  I felt ready to cry.  Not just a failed Elf, I felt no longer even an adult.  I could never return to Erebor for I was unfit  to be its queen.   Incapable of facing the consequences of my actions I was alienated from any civilised company. I wanted to sink through the floor, disappear, to be as nothing.  

 

Finally a patter of feet disturbed me.   They were light, almost as quiet as those of an Elf.  A Hobbit.  There was a silence, a pause, and a hasty retreat.  I had been seen.  But I no longer cared, no longer confused, just numb.  I had not felt this way since my wedding day. I hazily remembered my slow approach to the wedding party, footsteps echoing in my father's throne room.  I saw again Thorin's dark head turn, his face, then unknown, now so endeared to me.  But I shuddered at my failure.    

 

 

 

_Elrond has no knowledge of her whereabouts.  She is nowhere to be found.  I feel anger rise in my gorge and begin to mentally blame them.  So smug, so careless, to lose a Queen...  But my anger is quenched as quickly at the sight of a well-known face.  "Bilbo!" shouts Dwalin and he engulfs the Hobbit in an embrace which threatens to kill the tiny man._

 

_"Dwalin, hello!" he splutters. Yes, I am pleased to see you, really, but I must talk to Thorin."  He approaches, beaming.  He slaps me on the elbow, it being a stretch to reach my shoulder.  "I've found her," he grins.  "Come with me..."_

 

 

 

 

More sounds, hardly heard so distanced was I, so catatonic.  Heavy steps this time, Dwarf steps.  Then a soft friction behind me, as a body sank down next to me.  A warmth, at my back and as a heavy arm encircled me.  A familiar smell of smoke, metal and stone, a rich deep breath in my ear, and I was home.

 

 

_I am home._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER ALERT!!!!!! If you have not read the book and do not want to spoil the last film for yourself do not read this!!!!!!!!!
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> This story is set in 2944 in an alternative universe where Thorin did not die at the BFA. Dol Guldur was abandoned in 2941 so the old Forest Path or Dwarf path was back in reuse after this. (IMHO)In this universe Thorin never hung Bilbo from the balcony!


	12. What D'You Want From me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Passion and intensity in Rivendell. Whatever next.

"Come home with me. We need you."

 

Had he said ' _I_ need you,' I may have replied 'Yes," and immediately left with him.  Or maybe I would not.  In truth I was so numb  that I was not capable of any rational thought.  "I do not think that I can Thorin."  I felt his body freeze behind me and there was a withdrawal of his emotions as palpable as the pull of a wave back to its ocean.  Released, I rose and walked slowly towards the deep shadows of the room.  He did not follow except for his gaze, which I felt on my back, heavy with disbelief.  

 

"May I ask why?" His voice, deep with emotion, grated in my ear.  "I cannot believe that your life with us was so..."

 

"It is not the fault of you, or of Erebor," I managed, as it with distance from him, my mind began to clear a little.  "I do not even blame the rebels.  Dwarrows and Elves have never shared respect and they were exhibiting your traditional rejection of my kind.  You do not seem to understand, my husband, that we cannot win.   This prejudice is deep-rooted, and no amount of education can eliminate it easily, it may not disappear in your lifetime perhaps."

 

_Rage boils within me.  That such ignorance would destroy this precious thing, this thing which belongs to me, is mine solely, is not duty, or politics, war or famine.  I will not let it happen._

 

 

He stood and approached me.  "That is no reason not to try.  Someone must make changes, why should it not be you and I?" He kept his voice low and controlled, but I could feel the anger inside.  Was it directed at the rebels, at me, at the world?

 

"Whatever I do I will bring down destruction on your House, Thorin.  It is unbearable."

 

"You suggest that I cannot subdue these rebels.  Do you think I am a weak leader?  When I left all was quiet, and while we are still waiting on Dain's reply, I do not fear my cousin.  He was loyal always." His anger was closer to the surface.  I saw his fist bunch where he held it against the wall as if to restrain himself.

 

"I do not insult you, I merely state my opinion," I said coldly.  I was too tired for this conversation.  I needed rest.  And quiet.  Dwarrow rage would not help.  "I must rest, Thorin, please excuse me."  And I moved to return to my room.

 

Thorin was not allowing this, however. He followed after me, his speed belying his bulk, and grabbing my arm swung me to face him.  "You will not deny me," he said gruffly, his voice low.  "We have fought this together for months.  You will not just abandon our work because of resistance." His eyes were steely and unforgiving. 

 

 

_Her coldness freezes my blood.  Could I have been wrong, to believe that she feels as I do?  Does she truly want to break our bond, perhaps not for the reasons she declares?  Is she herself reverting to prejudice, am I simply too stupid for her, too clumsy, too dwarfish?_

 

 

I blinked, unsure of myself, because while my mind said I was right and Thorin's House would fall if I remained a part of it, my heart felt that it belonged there, at Thorin's side, and yet craved more.  "Thorin, I.." I whispered, but halted at the sound of footsteps echoing towards us.  

 

He drew me along the corridor away from the sound and mutely we found our way through the maze to my chamber.  Thorin closed the door and we faced each other once more.  "What does your heart tell you, my lady?" he said quietly.  My eyes widened as his question seemed to reveal the abilities  of a mind-reader.  "I ask because I read on your face that you are in truth conflicted," he continued, showing that he was yet a Dwarf, direct and practical.  

 

I looked down to where he had joined our hands between us.  The warmth brought me comfort as always.  Was I truly ready to surrender this feeling, and perhaps, with time, further intimacy with my husband?  My throat was closing with emotion and I kept my head bowed, unable to speak.  He lifted one of his hands to cup my chin and raise my eyes to meet his.  "Sansukh," he whispered.  "You know that you and I are bonded, and belong together, for better or worse."  His dark eyes moved to my lips and gently he came closer until his long nose moved smoothly along mine, his mouth taking mine without hesitation. 

 

 _As I kiss her I burn.  I am a flame into which she has thrown a sacred fuel.  It burns so white and hot that it threatens to combust us both. We are fused_.  _She melts into me.  So now I know that the cold Vanadesse is not real.  She is trying to convince herself only.  Her sense of duty rivals mine but I will not allow her to sacrifice both our happiness.  Not to satisfy the ignorant._

 

 

Too soon he was moving away once more and looking closely into my eyes.  "You feel as I do, Vanadesse, and no Elvish trickery can hide it.  We stay together."  He seemed well-satisfied with this pronouncement and well he might for I had betrayed my feelings for him completely.  

 

I smiled wryly.  "You have the advantage of me Thorin, but we Elvish people do not allow their hearts to rule their heads.  My argument stands."

 

His brows drew together.  "How can you speak so coldly?" he said, his voice tight with frustration.  "Why would you throw away all we have worked for?  I can only conclude that I am wrong, that you do not feel as I do."  He took my hand once more, lacing our fingers together.  His eyes probed mine relentlessly.  "That you believe that this simple action, achieved against all odds, is not worth fighting for."  He raised his other hand to my face and smoothed his fingers through my hair.  I shivered at the touch despite my stated determination to follow my head.  He must feel my reaction.  His dark eyes were pools I could fall into. 

 

I dropped my head.  It was the only way I could save myself, to break that gaze.  But I felt the gentle touch of his fingers once more and he raised my chin until our gazes locked.  "Vanadesse, do not betray our bond," he said, his voice low and seductive, and I was lost. I slid my arms around his neck as he took my lips again.  My fingers found his scalp and touched it lightly, my fingers splayed.

 

 

_Her fingers reach through my skull and into my brain.  Their touches ignite sparks inside me. She is starlight, I am lightning.  Our flames combine and we are one._

 

 

As the connection was made I felt him jerk and draw away in surprise.  "What was that?" he said hoarsely.

 

 My heart sank at the sight of the frown on his dark face.  "Oh, I am sorry," I stuttered, backing away, "I did not mean..."

 

"You touched me, and fire was entering my brain, not with pain but with a caress.  What..."

 

"It is the _Gwaeth_ , the troth.  I did not think."

 

"Explain," he said softly, cupping the base of my skull in his hand.

 

I tried not to let the delicious tingle which began there distract me.  "It is a part of Elvish love-making.  "The _Gwaeth_ links us to our mates, allows our minds to touch.  It means that the bond is deeper, and unique.  It can happen with only one mate in a lifetime."  I blushed.  "It is instinctive to us, I did not  plan... I should not have..."

 

"No," he whispered. "Do not regret this declaration of truth between us.  We are life bonded and it is right that we should touch.  Now I will be prepared."  His lips touched mine once more, quickly becoming hungry and spreading a fire of his own, which threatened to consume me entirely. I reached my fingers to his scalp once more, tentatively, and felt the link begin to open.  This time his mouth opened and a sigh escaped into my mouth.  His warm breath was delicious to me.  My thought begin to touch his own, the mingling of minds gentle.  I could feel his emotions swirling with mine, a pleasure which warmed us both.  His lips moved down to the delicate skin of my neck where they were surprisingly soft, sending shivers through me as they caressed and nibbled.  I leaned my head against his, letting my fear dissipate.

 

 

_Her Elf magic consumes me once more and I welcome it.  Together we plunge into our flames, clinging together as we are carried over a fiery precipice.  The scent of her skin invades my senses and the flames lick my body as well as my soul. The strength of my arousal overwhelms me, abolishing reserve, tearing down barriers._

 

 

Vanadesse, let me, Mahal help me I need..."  He breathed the words as his fingers struggled with the ties of my robe.  But the movement brought cold water crashing over me.  I loosed my fingers from his head and pulled away sharply.

"Thorin!  I cannot, I need to..." Confusion filled me again.  Where I had minutes before declared my intention to leave him, I had let such thoughts fly away and lived only in the moment.  We were on the brink of consummating the marriage I saw as a mistake.

 

 _"_ What?" he said dopily, before his eyes refocussed as his thoughts clarified.  The sudden breaking of  the _Gwaeth_ had left him reeling.

 

"I am sorry Thorin, but this should be a decision, we should not just hurl ourselves into such a bond."

 

 

_I am alone in my mind.  Bereft I stare at her in disbelief.  After that which we have shared she is still talking of deserting me.  She is faithless._

 

 

His eyes sharpened.  "We are already bonded, _my wife._   In case you do not remember." He grated his teeth, fists clenched once more.  He was intensely irritated and it did not surprise me.  I had plunged him into the flames then dragged him from them.  I was deeply affected and I knew that he would be even more so.

 

"Come," I said gently and led him by the hand to sit opposite me.  The dainty chair looked ridiculous under his small but intensely masculine body.  I held both his hands and held his intense gaze.  He breathed fast and his pupils were still dilated.  "I apologise for leading you to such a place only to pull you back so harshly.  But we had not reached any agreement and it cannot be right to make love when..."

 

"How can such joy be wrong?" he mumbled.  "I love you,  Sansukh.  Your beauty overwhelms me. You may leave but that will never change.  You are my One." 

 

Heat and cold competed for possession of my spine at his words.  He thought me beautiful.  Love for him flooded me.  How could I leave him.  I had spoken of head and heart but my head was silent as my heart reigned.  "Oh, Thorin," I breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Gwaeth is my invention. I am a huge Blake's 7 fan and I always felt that empathic Cally's people may experience something incredible when they make love. Maybe Elves do too.
> 
> Love scenes are so hard to write!! Thanks for the lovely comments, they make it easier to carry on when inspiration fails (as it did last week.) 
> 
> Inspiration eventually came from an Adam Lambert song I have been listening to:
> 
> What D'You Want From Me?
> 
> there might have been a time  
> when I would give myself away  
> oh once upon a time  
> I didn't give a damn  
> but now, here we are  
> so what d'you want from me
> 
> just don't give up  
> I'm working it out  
> please don't give in  
> I won't let you down  
> it messed me up  
> need a second to breathe  
> just keep coming around 
> 
> hey what d'you want from me  
> yeah it's plain to see  
> that baby you're beautiful  
> and it's nothing wrong with you  
> it's me I'm a freak  
> but thanks for loving me  
> cos you're doing it perfectly
> 
> there might have been a time when  
> I'd have let you slip away  
> I wouldn't even try  
> but I think you can save my life  
> just don't give up on me
> 
> pink/shellback/martin


	13. Father, Dear Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Showdown time

 

**Chapter 13**

 

**Father, Dear Father**

 

I was lost in my husbands' kisses when a cautious knock disturbed us.  Despite my superior hearing it was Thorin who raised his head in annoyance, sighed and strode to the door.  "What is it?" he said with irritation.  

 

A diffident Elven-maid stood there, obviously aware that she was unwanted.  She continued with her mission, however, delivering her message unemotionally.  "My Lord Elrond wonders if my Lady needs anything?"

 

"Certainly not you," he muttered with his usual lack of discretion.  

 

The Elf looked beyond Thorin to me, caught tidying my disarranged clothing.  To her credit she did not smirk.  It was not an Elven habit.  But a slight motion of her eyebrow betrayed her curiosity.  

 

"Please thank Lord Elrond and tell him no," I replied, more courteously than my husband.  The Elf bowed and retreated smoothly.  Thorin slammed the door unnecessarily.  I finished my tidying.  "I shall retire," I said.  

 

He looked even more irritated.  "Why?"

 

"Time has passed. It is near midnight," I shrugged.

 

"And?"

 

"And I am tired.  So should you be.  It has been a day of crises."

 

"So that which has passed between us ends because we are interrupted."  He grated, taking my elbows none too gently.  

 

"I need to think, Thorin, before this continues any further," I hissed back, pulling my arms from his hands.  In my heightened emotional state I too was irritated.  Only minutes before I had been planning to leave him.  Now we were on the verge of consummating our supposedly political,  sexless marriage.  "I need to decide my course, not be led into it."

 

"Mahal's beard woman, that felt like a decision to me!"  He strode to the door, wrenched it open, and was gone.

 

 

_I burn with desire and frustration.  This woman torments me.  She has taken me to the edge of control then retreated.  She does not know her own mind, while I know that we must trust our instincts, and our hearts, which are completely certain.  I do not go to my rooms, but to the gardens where I walk about directionless, attempting to cool down amongst the twee fountains and flowers. I see Dwalin watching from the shadows of an archway, but he does not approach me.  He knows my moods better after all these years.  I know he is aware of my problems with Vanadesse, but he is utterly discreet.  Indeed I trust him with my life daily.  We will not sleep tonight, my shadow and I._

 

 

I covered my face with my hands.  I knew that I had behaved badly, swaying this way and that, denying him, but this was our future.  I loved him, yes, I acknowledged it, despite all my Elven logic, despite culture, and history, and prejudice.  But that could not be enough, for we were royalty.  If we fell into this blindly, our lives were not the only ones affected.  Could Thorin hold onto Erebor with me at his side?  Or must I be sacrificed for the good of his realm?  We needed more time to find out.  Becoming more emotionally tangled was not the answer.

 

 

The next morning I walked in the gardens, thankful for their coolness and peace.  Thorin did not appear, but Bilbo did.  We talked of books, laughed and studiously ignored any reference to yesterday.  His tact was a blessing.  I was tired, and cross, and unsure about the future.  My sleep had been plagued by dreams of war, as my waking hours were filled with worries about rebellion.

 

"No Thorin this morning?" he asked tentatively, blowing my appreciation of his tact to pieces.  I scowled at him, causing him to bob sideways and stammer.  "Not that we need him, eh?  Lovely day, nice and quiet.  Just you and me."  He smiled hopefully.  

 

I burst out laughing and he relaxed visibly.  "Oh Bilbo you are such a tonic," I hooted.  

 

"You are the only Elf I ever saw give a proper belly laugh," he mused.  "You're so unlike the rest.  It reminds me of Kili, so unlike a Dwarf and looking so Elf-like I mean.  He even uses a bow."

 

"Maybe we were swapped at birth," I joked.

 

"Hope not, seeing that that would make you Thorin's niece by blood," he scratched his head.  "Could be embarrassing."

 

I was trying to think of a reply when we were interrupted. A nervous-looking Elf messenger was approaching.  My heart sank.  This could not be good.  And I was right.

 

"My Lady Vanadesse," he said breathlessly.  "My Lord Elrond bids your presence.  A visitor... it is the Lord Thranduil!"

 

 

 

My first instinct, to run and hide, was impossible.  I could not make a habit of that.  My father.  It must be faced, he had come to gloat.  Somehow he had got news of our Ereborian dramas.  As my dragging footsteps took me to our rendezvous, Bilbo's feet pattered quietly beside me.  I felt so glad of his support I almost smiled.  As we drew near to the council chamber I quietly reached my hand out and took his.  He squeezed mine.  "Never mind, we all have unwelcome relatives," he said lightly.  "You should meet my cousin Lobelia.  You've got _no_ problems, believe me."  

 

"Perhaps we should get them together," I said dryly, and we entered the chamber.

 

My father stood apart, his expression supercilious, as Elrond poured a drink at the table.  He handed it to a serving Elf who took it to Thranduil.  He took it coldly, not looking at the poor Elf who seemed ready to drop at his feet.  It really is a myth that we Elves are all calm in every situation.  You would be a fool not to approach my Father with fear. 

 

"Daughter, you will greet me, as is your duty," he pronounced.  I followed the serving Elf's path with, I hoped, more aplomb. 

 

"Father," I said, with as much neutrality as I could manage, and kissed his icy cheek.

 

"And where is your husband?" he asked, and looked around as if expecting everyone to laugh at a joke. "The Dwarf," he added with an emphasis that seemed to say, ' _The Barbarian_.' His guards and courtiers, scattered around the outer area, snickered on cue.

 

Elrond saved me, for I had no idea of Thorin's current location.  " _The King_ is hunting, with his courtiers, since sunrise."  This was news to me.  Maybe he hadn't been able to sleep properly either.  No doubt he was mentally killing me with every arrow he shot into some poor animal.

 

"Ah! You do not accompany him, Vanadesse?" he managed to make my name sound ironic, which of course to him it was.  Eternally.

 

"I do not enjoy the hunt, as you know well, Father," I said calmly.  "I feel too much kinship with the prey."  He laughed without humour, and a frozen silence fell.

 

"A drink, my daughter?" Elrond spoke affectionately and moved towards me with a glass.  As he passed it to me he touched my hand and I felt a warm surge of encouragement pass between us.   This was my real father, and yes, I was loved.  I felt my confidence rise and I stood erect, my head lifted.

 

"Do you have a purpose in this visit, my Father?" 

 

"Do I need a purpose, other than to see my beloved daughter and enquire into her happiness?" His voice was heavy with sarcasm.  He was after a news pleasing only to him, the expected confirmation of my misery in marriage.

 

"Vanadesse is, as you see her, healthy and beautiful," responded Elrond, saving my furious response.  

 

"Ha!" snorted my father.  He nearly spilled his wine.

 

"You find something funny in Elrond's words?"  The challenge came from one of the archways of the room, where Thorin stood in the dim light, dark eyes glowing with a cold rage.

 

 

_The despised elf is before me.  How did I ever do business with him?  Desperation, that's how.  But never again, even if we must starve.  He is the devil, teaching her to despise herself.  I can see her, shivering and tense as she awaits new torments.  I must destroy him in her name._

 

 

"Thorin!" I whispered, and nearly went to him, restraining myself at the memory of our last parting.

 

"I spoke to you, _my Lord_ Thranduil _,"_ said Thorin, moving fully into the room.    "Do you  not agree with Lord Elrond and myself that my wife is beautiful as her name suggests."  

 

"Her name.  Ah yes, that.  I am sure that Vanadesse herself could explain that to you, my dear Son-in-law."  He looked expectantly to me.

 

"It means 'beautiful woman'," I said flatly.

 

"I think we all know that, my daughter.  Your husband may wish to know the history of the naming." He smiled cruelly.

 

"My mother.  My mother named me.  She chose the name."  My voice mechanical, I could not look at any of them, I was lumpen with shame.

 

" _And?_ " His voice remorselessly took me back through the years, I was a child again.

 

"And you laughed, and said, 'Beautiful, what do you mean?' and she said, 'Beautiful to me, my only daughter,' and you said 'I always knew insanity ran in your line, look and you will see she is ugly, deformed, never of pure elven blood.' and she said..."

 

"What she said is irrelevant, as was she.  I had the sad ill-luck to lose my wife soon afterwards.  She was a wretched an example of Elf-woman as is her daughter."

 

 

_I picture her mother, giving her Vanadesse' image.  She suffered at his hands also.  I shall think of her, as of Vanadesse, when I kill him._

 

 

Into the silence that followed, walked my brother.  Numbly, and seemingly at a great distance, I saw him approach my father, shouting.  I could not take in the words, for the buzzing in my ears, but I had never seen Legolas defy him before.  Never.  My senses awoke at the sight and sound of Thorin, a blur as he launched himself at my father.  If Legolas had not stopped him, he would surely have killed Thranduil.  Thranduil's guards jumped forward.  Legolas held Thorin, as he raged and swore, and I felt a Hobbit hand creep into mine, and Elrond's arm begin to guide me away.

 

"No!" I shouted, I will not be protected from this.  This is how I have lived, it is my life.  I will see the conclusion!"

 

Elrond released me, but stood protectively behind me as the confrontation continued.

 

"You will pay for this insult to my wife. You will suffer for your abuse of her!" shouted Thorin.  Despite his great strength he could not dislodge Legolas, who still stared stonily at our father. 

 

"Hear  him, Father," he said, his jaw rigid.  "You have gone too far.  This is her husband, who demands her rights, as I would do were he not present.  I should have stopped this years ago."

 

" _You?_ You stop me?  You speak treason my son.  You will not challenge me. Do not think that you are indispensable."  At this condemnation of Legolas, I noticed Thranduil's entourage look uncomfortable.  They exchanged glances, less than certain of their allegiance, I thought.  They may easily pick Legolas, who was far more popular than my father.  My brother's face hardened, I could see the revulsion there.

 

 

_In the moment when the Vile King's son turns against him, I know that I will indeed have my revenge, even if it takes my lifetime.  Legolas is as great a warrior as his father, and honourable.  I stop struggling against his strength, instead I focus on my wife, willing her to see this more promising future._

 

 

In Thranduil's  place I seemed to see a serpent, poisonous, sinuous.  I shuddered, and Bilbo tightened his grip.  "Come," he whispered, "You don't have to suffer this."

 

"Why not? It is all familiar."

 

I felt Elrond  move, almost imperceptibly, at our words.  He stepped out and towards the others, where they formed their enraged but frozen tableaux.  "Thranduil," he said quietly in his beautiful voice.  "You will leave my House.  There is no place here for such venom, such cruelty.  You need not visit your daughter again, she has four men who care for her now."  There was so much authority there that surely none could question him.  But I  had under-estimated my father's vanity.

 

"Leave?  But I have only begun," he hissed.  "I have no proof that this marriage is a true one, and I may yet decide to take my daughter back.  There are others with whom I may wish to make alliance, more useful than this Dwarf."  

 

He nodded his head at Thorin, who bunched his fists in effort and finally broke free. "How dare you, Elf," he spat.  This is my wife you have been abusing. I will kill you." And I believed him. If he had been armed I'm certain he would have done it immediately.  As it was he could not touch Thranduil  with Legolas between them, and had to content himself for the moment with glowering and stamping around with those fists held stiffly before him.  

 

_Legolas lets me go, though he allows me the dignity of a show of strength.  My rage flows freely, but I restrain my violence for now.  It will achieve nothing.  We must take a leaf from the Woodland King's own book, take our time, plot our victory over him._

 

_I look to my wife, and see how my selfishness is affecting her.  I am so obsessed with my enemy that I have forgotten to protect my Queen.  She looks faint, and the Hobbit is doing his best to prop her up.  Belatedly I move towards them. But his next words have stopped me in my tracks._

 

Thranduil continued from behind his teeth.  "All must admit that is hard to imagine this Dwarf and this... female, coupling.  The attraction could not exist.   It would be an abomination.  The marriage is not consummated.  A year has passed.  I am within my rights to take her back, to be married more profitably."

 

I heard Thorin's sharp intake of breath, his protesting shout.  I felt close to fainting.  How could my father know our secret?  Thorin had thought to fool him the night of our marriage, but he saw the truth, that I was so grotesque, the idea so revolting to my husband...

 

"GO!" None of us had ever heard Elrond raise his voice.  We all stared.  "Go, or you will feel my wrath!"  A group of armed warrior Elves had appeared.  Their swords were unsheathed.  Thranduil's Elves melted away, unwilling to engage for a master they disliked and feared.  I covered my face with my hands.  This could not be happening.  Thorin came to me and took me in his arms. 

 

No-one spoke but I heard Thranduil passing us.  I lowered my hands to be met by his look of disgust, directed only at me.  "This is  not over," he hissed, and was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this. Thanks for comments, especially if they tell me what you like adn what you don't, they are so useful to improve my writing!


	14. Love and Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken so very long to post this. It simply would not be written. But I finally wrestled it to the ground and got the bag over its head, so to speak.
> 
> Warning: slightly explicit

 

 

 

**Chapter 14**

 

**Love and Life**

 

Thorin embraced me in the silence that followed Thranduil's departure.  His calming voice spoke low into my ear.  "Come, wife, back to your chamber.  Let me aid you."  I had no resistance to offer.  The others in the room may as well have been shadows, as I went with him, boneless.  In my room I sank to the bed, began to weep soundlessly.  Thorin sat beside me, taking my hand in his. 

 

_I am helpless to aid her, but my presence seems necessary.  She seems reduced, her proud bearing crumpled, as if she is a child again.  My rage at Thranduil's treatment of her has frozen, leaving me cold to the soul.  My powerlessness to protect her denies my position as a Dwarf and a husband.  I will have revenge, for her sake. I cradle her hand and smooth her hair, waiting._

 

There we stayed as the bright morning sun poured into the room, then grew a deeper yellow while afternoon passed.  My ears began to take in the sounds of Rivendell, my eyes saw not only light but images, and I became fully conscious as Thorin took a goblet from a tiptoeing servant.  "Drink this, beloved," he whispered, and helped me to tip the cup at my lips.  It tasted of honey and spices, and I knew it to be a restorative made by Elrond himself.  My heart warmed.  He took the empty cup from me and pulled me gently into his arms.  "Vanadesse, my love," he said caressingly.  "Do not remember anything said by that snake.  His poison words infect the world.  He knows nothing of you, or I, or us.  I revere you for your wisdom, your warmth and your beauty.  Be free of him now."  

 

I considered these words, while his finger moved  on my face, caressing my chin, my ears, calming me.  We breathed as one, gently.  He looked into my eyes as he brought his lips to meet mine, soft as smoke.  I came to life under his spell, my lips responding to his, moving slowly, then more greedily.  He tasted of wine, of fire, of passion.  I sighed and took the nape of his neck into my palm, pulling him closer.  "Thorin," I murmured, then words were done.

 

I found that we were stretched on the bed together.  He was fumbling at the laces of my bodice once more, and this time I was aiding him.  He finally succeeded in opening my dress, only to reveal the shift beneath.  He muttered in frustration.  I laughed at him as I sat up, removing the dress completely, then my shift.  I felt no shyness now.  I saw him take in the sight of my body, pale as milk, revealed to him.  His head lowered to my breast, and I started with shock as I experienced for the first a man's lips taking my nipple into his mouth. Groaning I renewed my grasp on the back of his head.  Shamelessly I offered him the other breast, and he took it eagerly.  

 

_Joy seizes me as she offers herself to me.  My love for her has consumed me for months.  I have built a dyke around it in order to function as King and give her her right of refusal, but now the bank is breached and heat flows through me, peaking in the strength of my erection.  She is glorious beneath me, her perfect skin glowing in the fading light of the day.  I greedily suck on her breast tasting the sweetness that is Vanadesse._

 

"Ghivashel," he groaned, then raised his eyes to mine.  They were glazed with passion.  "I will not be able to hold back if we go further, my love.  Do I have your permission?"  I nodded dumbly and he resumed his sucking and delicate nibbling.  His lips then trailed down my abdomen, his tongue licking and tasting my skin.  I shuddered and held on for dear life.  I had never tasted such fire, which licked in the path of his mouth.  My own solitary exploration of my body in attempts to stem the years of  loneliness had never excited me thus.   

 

_As our lovemaking becomes more intimate, I feel her mind search for mine once more.  This time, understanding, I  allow her access and feel the blazing fire of her emotions touch mine.  My brain is blinded, radiance overwhelming me.  My hands halt their movement as I adjust.  She retreats briefly, until I whisper in her ear, begging her not to withdraw.  This is like nothing I have experienced and I wonder how any love could be complete without such bonding._

 

My mind had begun to reach for his in the Gwaith.  He clutched at the sides of my body when the contact was made, then I slipped into his heart, clinging to him in emotion as in body.  He sighed, relaxed, and resumed his exploration of my body.  He had reached my undergarments which after a struggle he simply tore away, making me smile.  My hands began to move over his back now, on a mission of my own.  His skin, rough on his hands, was smooth and firm under his clothes.  I pulled impatiently at his shirt and he stopped to remove it, and while he was at it, everything else.  He rolled to lean over me, parting my legs and running his tongue along my thigh.  I shuddered.  

 

"Tell me what to do, Thorin, I am shamefully ignorant."  He stilled for a second.  "You will know, believe me, love," he said in an roughened voice, thick with desire.   He resumed his touches, his fingers and lips stroking me in secret places which made me dig my fingers  hard into his skin.  My head flew back to the pillow and I offered myself up to him.  

 

_Her innocence shames me.  She gives me everything and I think that all the sex I have ever indulged in is just that, just sex, animal coupling, compared with the beauty of her surrender._

_I enter her body carefully, and she sighs as she accepts the pain of her first coupling.  I sooth her with my voice and stroke her face gently.  When she is ready I move slowly within her and  with all the patience I can muster, make her mine._

Later we lay, the storm over, skin slick and cooling, clinging to one another like shipwreck survivors.  Thorin pulled a fur over us and we slept in the darkening room, filled with long evening shadows.  

 

_I emerge from sleep to the gentle sound of her breathing beside me.  I open my eyes and drink in her beauty.   Her long dark lashes lie on her cheeks, flickering slightly as she dreams.  After our intimacy the secrecy of her dreaming is bewildering.  I try to control my renewed desire for her, more intense than ever.  She needs rest.  To quench my body's longing I move quietly from the bed, dress and seek out cold, cold water._

 

It was morning when I woke, the sun high.  I lazily stretched, feeling the changes in  my body now that I was truly a woman.  The soreness inside me caused me joy, to think that Thorin had taken me.  I laid my hand upon my flat belly and felt a fizzing energy, faint but certain.  I knew it for what it was, despite my ignorance of lovemaking.  I was with child.  The fragile bond between mother and child, felt as an energy by Elven women, was already establishing itself.  I knew not what I felt, and lay still, thinking.  I had assumed that pregnancy would be impossible between us.  But we were the first lovers of our races, to my knowledge.  Joy bubbled slowly up to join my shock.  With child!  I knew that Thorin would be  thrilled.  Lives were so precious  to the Dwarf race.  

 

My hand felt across the bed feeling the cold sheet, remembering our ecstacy.  I was alone.  For a second I panicked a little, my insecurity raising its viper head.  But Thorin's caresses and low voice had changed me.  The memory of his voice over-rode my fear and rational thought told me that he had risen, that was all.  I was sorry, for it  meant that I must wait to tell him my news.  Rising from the bed  I moved to the balcony and looked into the gardens.  Early sunshine vied with a light shower and a rainbow arched across Rivendell.  I chose to see this as a good omen for our future, the three of us.  Below me figures moved, and it saw it to be Elrond and my husband.  A shock of love ran through me at the sight of Thorin.  My body tingled at the memory of his hands moving over my willing body and at the thought of our child to be.  Blushing, and glad no-one was present to witness it, I went to dress.  I was starving, I found.

 

When I opened my door it was to the sight of my brother, hand raised to knock.  "Van," he said, and opened his arms to embrace me.  I stepped into them with pleasure.  We had been close as children but since adulthood such demonstrations of affection had been rare. I loved him still, however, and relished the closeness to a family member, our minds meeting easily and to my comfort, as is wont amongst blood kin.

 

"Legolas, I am so happy to see you," I exclaimed.  He smiled and rubbed my back soothingly.

 

"You have rested well, my sister?" he asked, stepping back to look at me, eyebrow raised.  I watched as, through our family bond, he discovered the child inside me.

 

"Indeed I have, and since you have sought me out it is clear to me that I am extremely late in waking.  I see that you know my news almost as soon as I."  I lowered my eyes, unsure of his reaction.  I knew that many Elves and probably Dwarrows would see this child as a freak, an abomination.

 

He showed nothing on his face.  "You are awaited," he said levelly.  "Elrond and Thorin have been in consultation since the early hours, and wish to hear your opinion of their ideas," he smiled, "which will be, I am certain, contradictory."  It seemed he was not going to comment on the change in me.  Maybe he was restrained by elvish politeness, or maybe he needed time to think on it.  But he offered me his arm, which seemed a good sign.  "Come my sister, let us join the others," he said.

 

Together we walked the myriad corridors.  His face became grave.  "Vanadesse, I must tell you how distressed I was to witness your treatment at the hands of our father.  It was always thus, but now it  shocks me greatly.  He is fully in the wrong.  I feel shame that I have allowed him to continue all these years.  Thorin's just rage has woken my conscience.  If there is anything I can do now to support you please say so."

 

"You did help yesterday," I said quietly.  "I was touched by your opposition to him, which is not easy, as we are both aware."

 

"Indeed.  But henceforth I intend to think and speak for myself at all times.  I have been a sheep for too long."

 

I smiled encouragingly.  I hoped this  meant he would support my new family also.  "You will not be alone, brother, for Elrond has spoken, and those who respect him over my father are in the majority.  Even Thranduil's own guards looked ashamed of their allegiance yesterday.  I am sure that they will back you in any challenge to his authority."

 

He continued to hold my arm as we walked, and thus we stepped into sunshine and the presence of  Elrond and the group around him.   

 

My eyes were drawn, of course, to my husband, where he stood dark and proud despite being the smallest around the debating table.  I imagine his reaction to my news, but knew that I had to wait until we were alone.  Elrond, of course, would know immediately.  I saw it in his face and was relieved by the look of compassion in his smile.  I just hoped Thorin would not notice anything amiss. I wanted to tell him in my own way, alone.

 

"Vanadesse,"  Elrond greeted me with a bow.  "I trust that you slept well." I detected no sign of irony in his face.  But I would not expect to do so.  Elrond's face showed nothing but what he wanted it to show.

 

"I did, Rero," I smiled.  "How else could one sleep, in Imladris?"

 

_At my first first sight of her my heart leaps.  So much change between us in so small a time.  It is a struggle to turn my thoughts to the business at hand.  Love must wait its turn._

 

I moved to stand near Thorin, and we exchanged a polite verbal greeting, along with eye contact for ourselves alone, the dark gleam of his eyes searing to my heart.  "We have been discussing Erebor's future, my wife, now that your father's support is lost.  Lord Elrond assures me that our outlook is not so bleak as I feared."  He looked to my surrogate father.  

 

Elrond nodded slowly. "I believe that the Hobbit's skill, together with my advice, should get your agriculture on its feet within two years.  Meanwhile we shall support you with supplies from Rivendell and encourage and support the redevelopment of Lake Town and its trade with Erebor. Men value Dwarvish skill in metalcraft.  With care this should suffice."

 

Bilbo made himself known.  He stepped out from Elrond's shadow and spoke eagerly.  "I'm going to send to the Shire for gardeners.  I know plenty of Tooks who would jump at the chance for some adventure, especially now the journey is pretty safe." He grinned.  "How many Hobbits does it take to transform a kingdom?  We'll soon find out!"

 

I laughed and looked at Thorin.  But when his eyes met mine they were dark and serious.  "Even if the supply problems are resolved, there are other concerns.  Have you forgotten the threat of rebellion?  If Dain does not back us we will be alone and helpless.  Erebor will be in anarchy."

 

_Her levity worries me.  Can she still not understand the situation? Change is slow in the Elven kingdoms.  Maybe she will never grasp the differences between our worlds.  The thoughts and politics of Dwarrows run deep and dark, but they can escape through weaknesses in the rough surface of society to overwhelm and destroy.  We may all be swept away._

 

I was shocked by his prognosis.  Was the danger really that great? Did he truly believe his family was finished as rulers?  I looked to Elrond and saw his face was grave, but his words comforted as ever.  "You have my backing King Under the Mountain, together with the loyalty of more Dwarrows than you imagine, I believe.  You are the rightful heir of Durin, and that bloodright is ever powerful."  My heart lifted but even as the echo of his words died, raised voices were heard.  A lone rider was approaching the gate, and the Dwarf soon appeared, dusty, panting and clutching a piece of parchment.  He bowed to me briefly, then approached Thorin and knelt, proffering the letter.

 

"Balin sends this news, Thorin.  He bids you reply as soon as expedient."  Thorin told him to rise and opened the letter rapidly.  I resisted the urge to grab it and read it myself.  Time seemed to slow.  Finally his eyes met mine, black and drawn. He turned to Elrond.  

 

"Rebellion is imminent.  Our spies have returned from the Iron Hills.  It seems that my dear Cousin desires my throne."

 


	15. Plans and Meditations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking of ending at this point but have new ideas. So on we go!

_The varied reactions of those present only confirm my view of the individuals concerned. My loyal friend Dwalin's outcry is, of course, to be expected, while Bilbo behaves as he often did on our quest: he looks petrified, but shows his readiness to support me by looking to his sword, which is absent. His unpreparedness is typical of the Hobbit. As to the Elves? My wife pales and her knuckles show white. Her heart is with me more than ever after the recent consummation of our love. But the others present, despite my Lord Elrond's avowed support of me and mine, show no interest whatsoever in the disastrous news._

The noisiest reaction came, of course, from Dwalin, who exploded into shouts of rage until he was quelled by Thorin with a look. Bilbo made no sound but I saw his face blanch. His hand, however, went by habit to his waist where his small blade Sting would have hung, had he not been in the peace and safety of Imladris. The Elves present made no visible or oral reaction and to Thorin must have seemed cold as stone. But I could sense a great change in the serenity of the space. All were still but the distress was palpable to me, a fellow Elf. 

Was all Thorin and I had worked for, all he and his loyal company had fought for, to be lost to a Dwarf who would simply stroll in and take what he desired? I knew that the Iron Hills were nowhere near as splendid or rich as Erebor. I also knew that Dain had supported Thorin in the battle of the Five Armies. But had Thorin and his heirs been killed in that battle, as they so nearly were, and might have been without the loyalty of the Company and especially the seemingly insignificant Hobbit beside me, Dain would have inherited the Throne Under the Mountain with barely the lifting of his arm. Had he returned to the Iron Hills a disappointed Dwarf? Had the news of Thorin’s shameful marriage given him hope? Had he then stirred up the prejudice amongst the Dwarrows of Erebor against the marriage to boiling point? It seemed likely. Now we had to pay the price.

_I cannot look Vanadesse in the eyes. My shame at my inability to hold onto my kingdom overwhelms me. She has married me, a total stranger of a hated race, expecting at least the position to which she is entitled. Is the only life I can offer that of an exile, a refugee?_

I looked into Thorin’s face, but he averted his eyes from me. I felt a cold chill of dread pool in my stomach. Was Thorin blaming me for this, as well he might? Suddenly he seemed to snap to a decision. He summoned Dwalin with a twitch of his wrist and without a word they left the room. 

I made to follow but Elrond’s gentle hand restrained me. “Let him gather his thoughts alone, my daughter. Later will come our time to aid him.” I believed him to be right, but inwardly I agonised. Could Thorin forgive me for this, or must I be sacrificed for the good of Erebor? I held my shaking hand to my womb. He did not even know of my news. Maybe he should not yet know? If I told him now, his decision would be further clouded. Should I make it easier for him by going quietly? I knew that Elrond would always welcome me as an exile at Rivendell. I would willingly give everything for the safety of Erebor and my husband, but it would near kill me, that I knew. How could I live alone, having tasted love at last?

I quietly excused myself and walked in the gardens. I sought tranquillity but could not find it even there. I attempted meditation, seated in a shaded bower. My mind strayed repeatedly to wherever Thorin consulted with Dwalin. If only Balin were with us. As fine, honourable and loyal a Dwarf as Dwalin was, no-one would accuse him of possessing much grey matter. And Thorin was impulsive, hot-headed, not a strategist. He needed good counsel.

_I know that Dwalin will agree to everything I propose, but I cannot stomach any more of Elrond's cautious platitudes. I need real advice, but Balin is not here. I will have trust to my own wisdom, such as it is. My Dwarf instinct tells me to fight for my kingdom to the end: my experience that I have insufficient strength in arms. But no heir of Durin could passively hand over his birthright. And I have not spent 100 years suffering exile then fought against the odds to retrieve Erebor only to put my tail between my legs like some limp-wristed Elf. I will fight._

Later I awoke, to the sound of laughter. Opening my eyes I saw Bilbo grinning up at me. “Really Van, asleep at such a crucial time? I have been sent to find you.” 

I jumped to my feet. “By Thorin?” I demanded impatiently. “By Elrond,” he looked sorry to have disappointed me. “But I think we will all be in discussion together soon,” he added hopefully. I looked heavily at him. He knew as well as I that neither of us would be allowed much input. A female and a Hobbit? We would likely be ignored.

Together we began to walk towards the council chamber. My mind returned to my previous thoughts. It still seemed to me that my best contribution would be my absence. Always, in a crisis this seemed the answer. Maybe Thorin and I were simply not meant to be. We were seen as an aberration by everybody, and our partnership was simply causing too much grief. My surprise conception had looked to me like a blessing of our union, a sign that we were, after all, compatible. But now the dull pain I had lived with in Erebor was returning. I did not fit into his world. No amount of determination could change that.

_Returning to the council chamber I see Vanadesse arriving with Bilbo, devoted as a pet dog, by her side. My heart sinks. I would tell my wife of my plans privately. She deserves this courtesy. But now she will have to hear it together with strangers. I fail her again and again._

As we approached the group of Elves with Elrond at their centre, I saw that Thorin and Dwalin were likewise returning. Thorin studiously looked anywhere but into my eyes. My belief that he had turned away from me was reinforced.

Elrond lifted his arms to encompass us all. “My children, a new council begins.” Dwalin looked faintly nauseous. He may tolerate we Elves nowadays, but being described as Elrond’s child was too much for him to take. He began to mutter at Thorin, who ignored him.

My husband acknowledged Elrond's greeting and stepped forward. “Lord Elrond, I appreciate your good intentions, but this is my decision alone. Dwalin and I will take such men as we have and return immediately to Erebor. I hope we may arrive in time to defend my kingdom.”

Elrond’s face was as grave as I had ever seen it. “I do not believe that you can succeed alone, my friend. I think that you have little idea as to the number of loyal Dwarrows within Erebor. You must gather your allies…”

“Allies!” exploded Thorin, clenching his fist and striding around the table. “I learned when Smaug came never to rely on others. It appears that when I reclaimed my kingdom and married I forgot my lesson. I can trust none but my own.”

His words seemed to encompass me. I stood straight and gazed into the distance, fearful that the only other option would be to give way to a shameful display of distress.

_Furtively I glance at Vanadesse. Her stiff body trumpets her disapproval. I wish I with all my heart I could explain to her, that it is not the marriage I denounced but my weakness as a Dwarf and a king since falling in love with her. I have allowed love to distract me from my duty._

“You do not know the number of your own,” said Elrond quietly. “You may depend on the Elves of Imladris for aid. I also believe that Bard…”

“Men!” exclaimed Thorin. “Fickle, concerned only with their trade in fish! Bard’s idea of weaponry is that of the peasant. He will not care who rules in Erebor, as long as his hooks stay sharp.”

_I attempt to reign in my irritation. These damned Elves are so difficult to treat with. They have an answer for everything and look down their noses, literally, as they dwell on their own smug belief in their superiority to us all._

I shifted uneasily. I knew Bard to be a strong leader, an honourable man. He had been instrumental in the recapture of Erebor. I wondered if Thorin was thinking clearly. Could the Gold-fever be returning? He would be separated from his treasure if Dain took Erebor. I had heard of the danger he had put everyone in, with his madness. But I had believed him cured. The Arkenstone was now kept in the dark of the mountain, in its own closed vault, out of reach.

"My husband," I said tentatively. "It would be as well to listen to Lord Elrond. His experience..."

Thorin's brows drew together. "With all respect, Vanadesse, this is my area of expertise. I unfortunately have all the experience I need. I cannot waste any more time talking." He had not even glanced in my direction.

My mouth fell open in a protest never to be heard as Thorin nodded to Elrond and started towards the Rivendell entrance area, Dwalin calling his men as he hurried in the King's wake.

_I see the shock and sorrow in my wife's eyes as I silence her opinion and leave the room. I know that this wrongs her but I cannot talk to her in front of these self-satisfied Elves. I will not allow them any glimpse of our private relationship. With a shock I realise that I have forgotten that Vanadesse is, herself an Elf. To me she is my wife, my beloved, and we are the same. I want to see her in private but there is so little time._

I looked to Elrond. His head was lowered in thought. Raising his eyes to me he sighed expressively. "I fear that our help will not be accepted my daughter. Dwarves were ever a stubborn, independent race."

"And that is your best thought?" I fumed. "They cannot possibly challenge Dain with so few warriors. He will laugh in their beards before he hacks them to pieces!"

Bilbo touched my hand in sympathy. "Do you have any ideas, Vanadesse?" he asked quietly.

My rage subsided as I looked into his kind face. I would cling to my friends, even if Thorin had forgotten the need.. "Maybe," I replied.

I took my leave of Elrond after a word of apology for my behaviour and that of my husband. "Come, Bilbo, you can aid me. But let us take leave of the King first." Together we walked to the gate where we found Thorin tightening the straps of his saddle as Dwalin shouted the few man who had accompanied them to Rivendell into order. Thorin's possessions were being brought from our rooms. From his expression as I approached I felt it unlikely that he had planned to say goodbye to me.

Shocked, I moved close to him. "Thorin, please speak to me," I asked quietly as he reluctantly looked in my direction.

"Well, Wife, what do you wish to hear?" he said grumpily. "It seems to me there is little to say. I will ride to probable defeat, you will stay here where you will be safe. That is my wish for you."

_In my annoyance at my inability to see her alone, to make love to her and cherish her, I bungle this farewell. How can I salvage this, our last meeting in this world?_

I took his hand in mine. He stilled, finally looking me in the eyes. Now I saw what he had been hiding. His eyes were as dark as I had seen them and full of emotion. The emotion was not anger, but sorrow. "Oh Thorin," I whispered, please let me share this burden."

He nodded slightly. "It is your due," he conceded heavily. "I apologise for my roughness, but I am sure you know me well enough to understand it. I was overwhelmed by the shock of such a betrayal. You must know that I bear you no ill will. You have been nothing but a loyal and loving wife to me and strong in your care for my people. This will not be forgotten."

"Do not throw your life away in a fruitless quest," I begged. At least think longer on your plans."

"Honour is never fruitless," he replied, frustratingly. "My name will not be remembered for running away."

"No, I understand that honour is the breath of life to your people, Thorin. But there is no shame in seeking allies..."

"We have been around this route before, Wife. It has no purpose. I must leave, for every second's delay may mean the loss of Erebor."

I conceded, bowing my head sadly. "Then I wish you well, my Lord, and commend you to Mahal. May he protect you and all who are true to you."

He raised my chin in his hand. Our eyes locked. "I would not have it end this way my love," he said gently. "But fate has decreed it."

Relief flooded me as I saw deep love in his eyes. He did not blame me. I would not have to live with that particular grief. I raised my face to his and we kissed gently but with truth and finality. "Thank you, my love," he said simply.

_I touch her face with wonder. That this woman should love me, she so soft and powerful and refined as steel, I rough-hewn and crude as coal. I have had this love, sweet as honey, for so short a time. But she has blessed my life and given it a meaning better than all the wealth in Erebor. As we part with the knowledge that we may not meet again, she at least knows of my love for her. In the end that is all that is important._

Grief flooded me. I would try to believe that I would see him again but I knew that he was certain that death awaited him. I had to place my hope in my own plans. 

After the sight of Thorin and his men had dwindled to nothing I took Bilbo's hand in mine. "Now, my good Hobbit," I said in an attempt at normality, "you and I have work to do."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? I mean, oh good! I can't bear sad endings you know."

Despite myself I managed a small smile. "That is the purpose of a Hobbit," I replied as lightly as I could. "When all is death and gloom, a joke and..."

"a meal?" he said hopefully. Then we both laughed, though it was but a sad attempt. We ate in a deserted dining hall. At my guess Elrond was taking counsel elsewhere. Legolas would also be with him, I thought. But my best counsellor was the small figure beside me, ever optimistic, ever willing.

"Will you aid me, Bilbo?" I asked, as he finished his third enormous fluffy roll of white bread. It had been covered in rich yellow butter and oozed with strawberry jam which he carefully removed from around his mouth with a pristine linen cloth.

"What do you think?" he replied stoutly. "Did you even need to ask?"

I smiled gratefully. "You are the best of friends Bilbo Baggins. Together we can succeed, I know it."

"Ah, but what at is the question," he joked. "As long as whatever it is does not require any height we shall certainly triumph."

"No, no height is required," I said bitterly, "just the loss of dignity."

At that his eyebrows rose higher than ever. "Well, when outside the Shire we Hobbits have little of that. It may be more difficult for you, however. What form does this indignity take?"

"It takes the form of groveling to my beloved father," I said reluctantly. "We ride to the Woodland Realm, where I plan to sacrifice my pride for the good of my husband."

_I ride alongside Dwalin content in the knowledge that she is safe. She may yet live a thousand years, make a new life for herself. I set my mind to the journey ahead, to the conflict to be._

 


	16. Ephigenia*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin rides to war, while Vanadesse attempts to win aid for him from her father.

The journey took forever. I do not share the stoicism of my people. Despite Bilbo's best efforts, he was a slow rider and I fretted as I pictured Thorin outstripping us as he hurried to his fate. But I gritted my teeth and did not criticise. I remembered the good will and loyalty of my companion and listened to his tales from Shire history. I even enjoyed them, for he was an excellent raconteur. But still the journey stretched on.

 

_We sing as we ride to our death. The journey is interminable, but we Dwarrows know many songs, of duty, of triumph, of tragedy. Dwalin has the deepest voice you can imagine, like the cracks of Doom. Mostly he sings proudly, head erect. But now and then I can hear a tremor in the voice and make very certain that I am not looking in his direction at those times._

 

Beyond the attentions of a couple of rogue Orcs, who did not seem to know that they were supposed to have abandoned the misty mountains, we were left in peace. And one fine morning two weeks later we finally clattered across the bridge of my father's palace. I looked up at the walkway above and marvelled that it was a year since I had watched Thorin and his retinue arriving for our wedding. But it also seemed impossible that I had ever lived here, in this dreary place, stagnant with the centuries without change.

I allowed the outwardly unperturbed guards to escort me to my father's throne room. Nothing had changed. I saw the chair I had been exiled to during the wedding negotiations, the table where we had signed the documents. I realised that my life before Thorin was dead to me. It held no power to cow me. Which could prove useful.

Thranduil raised a delicate eyebrow as he watched us approach. I saw that he had thought never to see me here again. I wished with all my heart that he had been correct. A look of disgust crinkled his lip and fine nostrils. I met his eyes to see that he had already discovered my pregnancy and despised me, if it were possible, even more for it. I dropped the required curtsey. Bilbo stood a step behind me, ready to back me up. Heaven help him.

 

_The weather on the Misty Mountain pass is benign. We crest the ridge and begin our long descent. The land spreads before us, vague and blue and indistinct. Somewhere ahead lies our destiny. I can almost believe I see the glint on armour of the massive army which awaits us. It is an illusion, we have many miles to ride, but I feel the cold clutch of death's hand groping for me. I look to Dwalin and he responds with a ferocious grin. He seems confident, the ease of our journey making him complacent. But I need the comfort of his huge bulk riding beside me._

 

"I had not expected the pleasure of a visit, Queen Under the Mountain," Thranduil began, refusing to acknowledge our relationship. "I see you have left your husband's protection. Has he tired of you or is he repulsed by your condition?"

I gritted my teeth. Despite my foreknowledge of his malice, it shocked me every time. "Neither of those, my Lord," I replied, copying his denial of shared blood. "On the contrary, I am here at his behest," I lied.

"What could you possibly have to ask of me, that I would grant?" my father sneered. "It is but weeks since you gave me to understand that we would have no further dealings. News which gave me great pleasure."

He looked down his nose at me. I restrained my desire to turn my back and leave instantly, and forced myself to my knees before him. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "My Lord, I would be accepted once again as your most dutiful daughter." I kept my head down, hiding my own look of self-disgust.

He laughed aloud. "What do you want of me? For nothing else would bring you to your knees before me. Let us tell the truth of our mutual loathing, Vanadesse."

I resolutely stayed on my knees. "I admit that we have been at odds, but blood, as men say, is thicker..."

"You do not share my blood," he hissed. "Of that I am certain. Your mother was untrue to me. You are part Dwarf. I know this because not only are you gross in form, but you have fitted so marvellous well into Erebor."

"It is true that we are unalike, my Lord, but I swear my mother was true to you. All knew her to be the purest, most loving..."

"Spare me the mythology. I would not let you live, let alone tolerate your presence in my Halls, were that freakish parasite you are carrying any blood of mine. I know that you want me to rescue your dolt of a husband."

I nodded, my face to the floor, hiding my blush of rage. Only for my beloved husband would I have debased myself so. Composing myself I lifted my eyes to his once more. "If you cannot acknowledge me, then think to the value of diplomacy, my Lord."

"I may look to that when I find out what this is about," he said, looking bored. "Out with it before I have you removed." He looked at his nails, then at the ceiling. The message was clear. I had seconds to interest him, or it was all over.

 

_We are forced to stop at the house of Beorn the Skinchanger. I would avoid begging at his door, for I know that he despises my people, but we are desperate for supplies. Ours are lost to scavenging wild dogs and a lazy night watch. I force myself to ask humbly for the goods. He mutters about greedy aggressive dwarves, but fills our bags and water skins. We move on as soon as possible. Even our allies despise us._

 

"Erebor is still rich in gems," I stated simply. That had his attention. "White gems amongst them."

"And that is relevant because?" He knew very well, as did I. His thirst for such gems was insatiable, and the marriage settlement had not provided nearly enough of them to please him.

"I speak for your information only," I fudged.

"Ah, of course. Information. I shall consider this information. Meanwhile, you will be shown to your new quarters. I am sorry to tell you that your old apartments have been reassigned. But I am sure that you will appreciate your new accommodation."

A flick of his hand was enough to bring two guards forward. They grabbed Bilbo under his arms and dragged him off. I glared briefly at my father and followed.

 

 

_At night I look at the stars and think of Vanadesse. Her people sing of the stars, their light cold and pure. Stars have no emotions, like most elves. My people love darkness and fire, elements of intensity. My wife and I have no common roots but my feelings for her run deep and rich as the veins of gold beneath my mountain. I will never see her lovely face again, never run my fingers through her black black hair. We had only one night of love, but the fire we made outshone that of all other lovers. We burned like molten gold, like the rising sun. I am warmed even now by our inferno, and I can finally sleep._

 

We were flung unceremoniously into adjoining cells. Bilbo fell with a loud clang as he tangled his legs up with Sting. I realised that he had drawn it in readiness to defend me. In that moment I loved the little man. I pushed my face up to the bars and looked him over anxiously. "Bilbo, are you injured?"

"No, my lady, I am whole though scarcely happy. What does this mean? Will Thranduil keep us here indefinitely?"

"I think he is merely showing us his power and his mood. He is patient as the eroding ice. We may be much too late and quite a bit older before we are released, gems or no gems."

"We have failed." He sank down sadly to the floor of his cell. It was furnished, like mine, with a fresh-looking pile of straw and a water jug. I sat on my straw and put my head in my hands. Now what were we to do?

From the next cell I heard the sound of a scuffle. I looked up to glimpse a dark figure outside Bilbo's door, where Bilbo stood, tugging on a mop of blonde hair and sticking Sting through the bars at the strangers' throat. "Bilbo!" I exclaimed, who is that?"

"I do not know," Bilbo replied fiercely. "But as we have no allies here it must be an enemy. He will make a fine hostage for us!"

I scuttled over to the corner nearest Bilbo's door, and squinted. "Bilbo, that is my brother! let him go!"

"Ah," said the Hobbit, releasing Legolas and stepping back abruptly. A wise decision as Legolas gave him a look which suggested imminent death.

"Legolas!" I gasped, what are you doing here?"

 

_We take the old Dwarf path through the forest. It is as black as my mood. If i must meet my death I would it were quick, not drawn out like this. It is hard to see any glory in the final defeat of my house, however bravely my loyal Dwarrows and I may fight. I miss Vanadesse' knack of raising my spirits in the darkest times, Dwalin hardly makes an adequate substitute. He is now, if anything, moodier and angrier than I._

 

"I followed you, naturally," said my brother, feeling ruefully around his neck.

"Never underestimate a Hobbit," I grinned.

"I will take your advice. Why did you come here, Van? I would have stopped you but I was detained by spiders at the crucial moment. It seems that in my absence father has been losing the battle in the forest." I shuddered. I wondered how close Bilbo and I had been to filling some arachnid's stomach.

"Never mind, I'm just grateful you are here," I said eagerly. Can you get us out?"

"Of course," Legolas raised an eyebrow. "But would it be wise, sister. Will you merely blunder into more trouble?'

"NO! I said indignantly. "Let us out!"

Legolas grinned. "Sorry sister, you were a fool to come here, but you are a great deal safer at the mercy of our father than in the midst of the battle I know you are itching to join. No heroic rescue of your husband I am afraid."

"You must let me out Legolas. I have to do something for Thorin. He's heading for death like a moth to a flame."

"You should have come to me," he replied. "Or do you not trust me?"

"Of course I do, but did not think you would wish to aid my husband."

"I have changed, Van. I told you at Rivendell that I have gauged the support here. While you were arguing with father I rounded up my supporters. They are ready to leave. But you will not be with them."

"Legolas! You cannot leave me here! He may kill me!" As my brother turned to leave, I heard him chuckle. He knew as well as I that that my father would never stoop that low. He would not get away with it either, for he would have had to answer to Elrond and Galadriel.

 

_Finally we leave the darkness of the forest. As we make camp for the night, I think of Vanadesse. I imagine her at Rivendell, frustrated, waiting for news. But at least she is safe. She will begin a new life with Elrond, sad at first, then gradually as my memory fades, finding meaning in life once more. I am happy to dwell on her future. She will never know discomfort, or prejudice, or even death. I smile into the darkness, where Dain no doubt awaits me._

 

As Legolas slipped into the darkness I sank down on my straw pile and began to cry from frustration and sorrow. I would play no part in helping Thorin, would not see him again. I had lost my battle, as he surely would lose his. Legolas had not given me any numbers for his supporters, but I felt that they must to be too small to win any battle with Dain. Bilbo came as close as he could, trying to comfort me. "Vanadesse," he urged. "I know you would be present but Legolas is right. You and I would make little difference to the strength of Thorin's army, and your presence would surely distract Thorin. He would think only of saving you."

I sighed. I could hear the truth in his words, though I did not like to admit it. I wanted to be at Thorin's side more than anything in the world. I held my hand to my abdomen. "Yes, that too," he continued. "Thorin would never allow you to risk the life of your child. Were he to know about it," he added hastily. This only made me cry harder. Thorin would never know he was to be a father. I had failed him spectacularly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *with apologies to Anthony Trollope, in 'The Warden'.
> 
> I'm sorry this has once again taken so long. It was blood out of a stone. I hope you like it. Please let me know if so!


	17. The Battle of Long Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin fights for his kingdom, and suffers two kinds of loss.

_My company finds me as we disembark near the foot of the mountain from our ramshackle boat on Long Lake. Together with my loyal Dwarrows of the quest, there are perhaps two hundred Dwarrows who have chosen me as a ruler above Dain. Did the work Vanadesse and I did count for nothing? Is the Dwarven race no longer filled with loyalty and honour above all else?_

_We organise camp. I discover that Sadronniel, Vanadesse' loyal servant, is amongst the Ereborians. My wife left her in the safety of Erebor, but now she faces death with the rest of us. Her Elvish gods must protect her, Mahal knows I cannot. Dwalin checks weaponry and Balin rations. It is a pitiful sight. I am glad that my Grandfather is not here to see the last stand of his house. There is shame in this warfare within the family._

_We expect Dain's host at first light, and make certain that we are ready for them - as ready as we can be. When the glint on helms and axes becomes visible at last through the murk, my heart sinks despite my foreknowledge of their superior numbers. Dain has ten for each of my warriors. I suppose that I could consider this a kind of tribute to the fiercesomeness of my Dwarrows. Looking at Ori, buckling up his surcoat close to me, I know that I am wrong._

 

 

Thranduil had me taken out of my cell in order to 'question' me, but in reality he just wanted to taunt me and watch me suffer. This had been a favourite pastime of his for many years. I was not feeling as able to resist as usual, I was beginning to feel unwell. As he stared down at me with distaste, I put a hand to my belly and tried to comfort my child. The baby was distressed. I attempted to remain calm for his sake.

 

_The sun is at twenty degrees shining pale through the misty air, when the horn echoes around the rock strewn landscape. Dain's men begin to move forward. I wonder why he has chosen to fight me here when he could just have stayed inside Erebor. Again I feel it to be a compliment, though he might just relish the prospect of open warfare._

_We have the advantage of higher ground on the slippery rocks but it counts for little and I want to conserve our energy as long as possible. They must come to us. I wait as long as possible before sounding the command. Dwalin has used his long experience in arranging our forces. My Dwarrows will die, but it will not be due to incompetence._

_We engage. The world becomes a wet blur of dust, blood and agonized cries. I hope briefly that it is only Dain's men of the Iron Hills who are dying. I would not kill Ereborians, however disloyal, but I know it is a vain hope. I see Dain himself, mounted, mouth open in a terrible cry and face twisted with battle fever._

_We hold firm for some half hour, because there is a narrow approach to our bluff for Dain's men. But slowly they wear us down, Dwarrows fall and my heart stops when I see my company rallying around me. Do they think it is the end already? More fall. Fili and Kili are beside me, Balin and Dwalin before. I would spare my glorious nephews, and the sorrow of their mother, but I can do nothing for them now. I have time to regret allowing them to stay with me, as we await the final darkness, weapons firm in our hands. Mahal will not be disappointed._

_More fall around me - Fili? Kili? A murmur arises around us, a movement, slight, amongst Dain's army. They waver. Why? You can carry respect too far. Then I hear it. The war cry of an Elvish army. Arrows fly into Dain's ranks, gleaming dully in the poor light. I can see little else through the gloom. The huge Dwarrow host thins slightly and confused holes appear. My remaining company are energised and shout encouragement to each other. Who has come to save us? Has Elrond left Rivendell? I think it unlikely._

_Then I see him, a bright figure defying the rain, golden hair flying, bow raised. Legolas. He has many Elves with him, all mounted and armed with bows and curved Elvish swords. They have the light of triumph in their eyes. How they are enjoying the chance to kill Dwarrows. I feel shame mixed with a twist of hope. Can my brother-in-law save my throne? Do I even want him to? I will be less of a king for it. As this thought passes through my bewildered mind, I lose concentration and with a flash of steel redness fills my eyes, then blackness._

 

After I was returned to my pile of straw I tried to meditate. Bilbo's anxious face appeared through the bars. "Van?" he asked in concern, "Is it the baby?" I nodded and tried to breath gently. "He is restless and unhappy," I managed. "But I also sense my contact with him fading. That is most worrying." "Yes, I see that," he said. "If only I could help." He rattled the bars in frustration. "Sorry, that won't help will it?" He stopped the rattling and looked at me. "Would it help if I sang?" Loss shook me and I cried out. I could no longer sense his consciousness within me. The baby had gone.

 

_The light blinds as I become conscious though it is only through closed lids. A white savagery of pain slashes through my brain. I am not dead. Trying to lift a hand I find I am too weak. Fuzzy blackness edges my mind. Dying then?_

_I try to open my eyes, and succeed. The glare of whiteness increases, but the only image is a dark shape leaning over me. Vanadesse? No she is far away. She will not be able to close my eyes for me. The image sharpens a little. A hand stretches huge to touch my forehead. A dark head with a long pale face looks down on me. I think once more again that it is Vanadesse, but then I see the eyes, blue, deep blue, dark with concentration - my eyes, a male with my eyes. Kili? But as the head lowers to listen at my chest, I see Elven ears, delicate and pointed._

_"Who are you?" I whisper brokenly. Will he even hear me?_

_"My name is Elrorin. Be quiet. You must rest as still as possible."_

_The voice is quiet, deep and calming. I have never heard this name. Some relative of Elrond perhaps. The confident touch tells me that I am in the hands of a healer. As the hands move around to the base of my skull I feel the pain recede. A warm tide washes through me and I sleep._

 

_When next_ _I_ _wake, Balin is sat by my side. "Well son, you are alive," he comments._ _I cannot tell how he feels about this._

_I attempt to sit up, and fail. "Where are we?" I ask irritably. The room is small and dark. Or are my eyes still damaged?_

_"Lie back and be still, son. We are at Lake Town. Bard has taken us in, and all are well cared for. There is nothing for you to do."_

_"Where are my nephews? I want to see them." \_

_"You cannot. They are in a similar condition to yourself. But they will recover." He glares at me._

_"Did we win?" I grunt thickly._

_"Win? We are lucky to be alive. Those of us who are."_

_"How many?" "One hundred and forty dead. Of the company, we have lost Bofur, who fell defending Bifur, also dead. Sadronniel survives, she hid amongst rocks." His face is grave, his voice unwilling._

_I close my eyes again but it does not help. Today I have fruitlessly killed many Ereborians and two of my most loyal Dwarrows. "Dain?"_

_"Lives. Retreated with nine tenths of his army intact to the mountain. We sent some two hundred of his men to Mahal. I cannot tell yet if they are Ereborians." He shares my grief. Pointless waste. I should have stayed at Rivendell, however weak that would have made me seem._

_"So I have failed. It were better had I died."_

_"We thought you had, you and Fili and Kili. You were on the very edge of death. Then the Healer came and you all came back to us."_

_"Healer." I began to remember. The dark Elf with my eyes - Elrorin. "Aye, a tall dark Elf. He came, he went, and few saw him. No Elf recognised him. It is a mystery."_

_"_ _Not even Legolas?" I frown, attempting to remember the face which leaned over me. It is vague._

_"_ _Legolas did not see him. It seems you were saved by a ghost, or a god. I do not know." He shakes his head, then wipes his hands over his face. He is exhausted._

 

I wept quietly on my straw bed. Thorin knew nothing of our child, would now never know him. What caused the loss? Thranduil had not physically hurt me, his torments were mental. Maybe he was right, Elves and Dwarrows were never meant to make children together. I shook my head in denial. How could the love I shared with my husband be unnatural when it was so true? A small hand, poked through the bars, touched my head tentatively, and began to stroke my hair, as Bilbo did his best to comfort me.

 

_"Thorin?" It is Legolas.  Behind him, Balin hovers, looking cross._

_"What do you want?" My anger irrationally increases. It is not his fault, after all, that he has had to rescue me._

_He smiles annoyingly. "I have news, brother." He is enjoying my impotence._

_"What news would interest me at this moment, Prince?" I cannot bring myself to return his acknowledgement of kinship. Not even for Vanadesse._

_"Well, if you do not wish to hear news of your wife, I will gather my Elven warriors and set out for Rivendell now." He is turning away, smug as all Elves are._

_"What about Vanadesse?" I demand, pushing myself up with effort._

_"Ah, you do wish to know?"_

_"Yes, brother, I say through gritted teeth, you know very well how much," I reply, managing to suppress my fear though not my sarcasm. There should not be news of Vanadesse, she should be safe and quiet at Rivendell._

_"She has left Rivendell..."_

_"What?" I interrupt, struggling to get out of bed. I am restrained and pushed back onto the pillows. "You let her leave?"_

_"Have you ever tried telling Vanadesse what to do?" Legolas' delicate brows arched sarcastically. "Were you successful?" I splutter, and he continues, clearly enjoying himself. "She went to my father for help, aid for you and your 'army'."_

_"_ _Mahal! Say she did not do so! To ask from **him**?" _

_"Precisely. He did not respond as she wished. She is in his cells, fuming, as we speak."_

_"How do you know this?" I bunch my fists in frustration._

_"I was there." My anger rises further up my gorge, I can barely suppress it. He looks more serious. "She wanted me to bring her, but for once she did not get her way. She remains a prisoner."_

_"At least you showed some sense," I manage. "We must free her, of course."_

_"Of course. But you are in no fit state. You will remain here, I will rescue my sister."_

_"You will do no such thing. She is my wife and I will rescue her."_

_"What will you fight with, your crutches?" He grins at me, now more in friendship than condescension. I like him the better for it._

_"If necessary," I grate back. "Thranduil will regret his treatment of the Queen Under the Mountain." I begin, more gingerly this time, to get out of bed. This time they let me, though Balin fusses._

_"May I come along?" says Legolas. "Only as a spectator of course."_

_"Yes. As a spectator, and to learn the art of stealth."_

_"That will be interesting," said Legolas, helping me into my boots._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am indebted to my son for his advice on the battle. He is an expert on ancient warfare. It will have to do.


	18. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can the lovers be reunited?

I woke to the Hobbit's whisper in my ear. "Try to drink this Van, it will help." The voice sounded very close. A hand lifted my head gently and I felt a cold rim touching my lip. He was in the cell with me.

 "Bilbo, you are in my cell," I mutter.

 "Yes, that is true."

 "How are you in my cell?"

 "Don't worry about that, just drink."

 "Can Hobbits pass through bars?" I tried to drink but choked and most of it dribbled out of my mouth. Sense was beginning to return to my body, I was cold and stiff. And there was the physical pain. But the pain of my body was nothing to the pain of my grief. "He has gone, Bilbo." Tears began to leak from my eyes again. I did not think I had any more left.

 "I know, Van. I cannot speak of my sorrow, it is too great. But you must think of yourself too. You must drink this. It is a potion, sent by your father's Healer. It will give you relief."

 We were silent. I drank. I did feel stronger as if life were returning.

 "Bilbo, how _did_ you get in here?"

 "When the Healer was leaving, and they locked the cells, he persuaded them to lock us in together. He wanted me to be able to care for you. I 

 "Not all of my people are my enemies at least."

 "Only your father, I believe. How could he leave you here in this cell. You could be dying for all he knows."

 "For all he cares, you mean. I am already dead to him." And I would still be dead in body, I thought. I did not tell Bilbo, but I knew that slowly, gently, my life's blood was seeping away.

 "And what was your crime?"

 "Being small, falling in love with a Dwarf, take your pick."

 I saw Bilbo shudder with distaste. It was beyond the understanding of his people, this frosty rejection. I felt dismay as I caught myself wishing that I was, as my father believed, no Elf. I had rather die a Dwarrow.

 

_We ride through the dark, my kinsman Elf and I. He could easily outstrip me on his giant mount, but instead we travel side by side, companionably, where the path is wide enough. He knows that I remain weak from loss of blood, but does not speak of it. Instead he keeps me from sliding from my horse into sleep by telling me of his sister's childhood. He says that she never knew her mother, her birth having killed the Queen. Instead she received nothing but abuse from her father, and Legolas admits freely that he had not been able to defend her. Thranduil controlled them both by shrivelling their confidence like etiolated plants in an icy desert. My brother-in-law escaped eventually by finding his own life amongst the Woodland Guard, but the fate of females is harsh. Vanadesse froze slowly inside from neglect. I remember the emotionless bride to whom I was unwillingly tied, and my desire for revenge against Thranduil grows in the silent blackness of my heart._

 

 Bilbo took my chilled hand in his warm one. "You are so cold, Van. We must get out of here."

 "We must wait for Legolas. No other would dare defy my father."

 "But he could be ages!" He was shocked.

 "We must face the possibility, my dear that he may never return." I tried to suppress a tear of weakness. I needed to be stronger than this.

 "No! Legolas is immortal. He will return." Bilbo's confidence in my brother's invincibility was touching. But I knew that Elves did die in battle, despite our strength and skill. Just as they did in dark prison cells, if they were left to bleed.

 Time passed. Despite the Healer's potion I felt myself weakening. I thought that the healer would not dare return to my side. For none but Legolas would defy our father, and Legolas was far away.

  _I know that without my brother-in-law I will never breach the gate of the Woodland Palace. It is well guarded day and night. But Legolas distracts the guard whilst I enter then leads me to the throne room where once Thranduil taunted me, his prisoner, and where later Vanadesse and I were married. That seems another life. Then, I felt myself filled with enough rage towards the King, but in truth I have reached another level of hatred entirely. I am hatred. It fills me from top to toe._

_I do not bother to speak to him. As we mount the steps I draw Orcrist, and I see his eyes widen as I approach. He is swordless. I hear Legolas shout in horror as he understands my intention. Somehow he has not understood my mission. He plans exile for his father. But only death is good enough for the Woodland King. Caught unawares, lulled because Legolas accompanies me, his guard is too slow. I close the gap, simply slide the blade between his ribs. My face is close to his, my eyes fixed on his as they bulge with shock. Then he is sliding to the floor, and I am retrieving my sword shining with his blood, which turns out to be red like everybody else's._

_A horrified silence before shouts surround me and Legolas is fighting his own men as the room fills with Elves. I turn and the desire to kill has left me. My anger is pooling on the floor by the throne where Thranduil lies, diminished to a piece of flesh. Legolas cannot hold them all off alone and I come to myself as several guards race up the steps to where I stand, waiting for my own death. But Orcrist is not so easily defeated: flashes and more Elves lie at my feet. The last of them will kill me. As I clutch my left hand to my side the blood begins to flow sluggishly between my fingers._

_"Thorin, go!" I hear Legolas cry and see him overwhelmed. They do not kill him, he is their king now. But they will restrain him until order is righted. I stagger, find myself exiting the room, unseen by those who are dealing with my new brother._

_I find the stairs to the dungeons, all too familiar to me, avoid the Elves running to the throne room by hiding in deep shadow. I enter the guard chamber which has emptied as all have gone to Thranduil's aid. The keys are on a hook, and I grab them. I shout her name as I go, looking urgently left and right. As last I see them, the Halfling and my wife. They share a cell, and seem to be sleeping. For a moment I marvel that they could remain oblivious to the bloody events above, then am thrusting one key after another into the hole. The last one gratingly turns and the door is open._

 

I knew not the time of day, or of night, nor which day anymore. Bilbo dozed beside me, but his snores grew quieter and he was further and further away from me, receding distantly into the dim corner of the cell. I heard little, saw less. Darkness grew over my eyes like a mould, cold seeping into my spine.

 Movement aroused me a little. Bilbo was rising to his feet, moving away from me. The cold at my back signalled his absence, the last of my senses telling me I was still alive. Then hands were gathering my limp body. All I knew was juddering discomfort, wished faintly that he would leave me alone. Death beckoned me from the darkness of my mind and I welcomed her quiet approach.

 

  _I am stilled as by a cold hand at the sight of Vanadesse' pale face. She seems dead not asleep, then Bilbo calls to her and I know that she lives. He stands back and allows me to lift her limp thin body._

_"Come, Bilbo," I shout urgently and he makes to follow us out of the cell. But Elves are pouring downwards again. I hear their outraged voices and know that we have failed._

_"Thorin, that way!" Bilbo is indicating a route unknown to me. "It goes up to the water gate. You go, I'll stop them!" I nearly laugh at these words but he is it seems, serious. "They won't hurt me, and you can save her." The little face is so determined that for a moment I believe him and find myself running down the side passage, Vanadesse in my arms, as his voice rings out behind me to be swamped by the shouts of the guards and the crash of metal._

 I was roused sporadically, heard some sounds, felt movement. In my delusion it seemed I was on horseback, a warm body behind me, a strong gentle hand holding me securely there. Later I became aware of the cold metal of a bottle raised to my lips. I drank automatically and my mind began to swim free of its stupor. Some sound returned, some light, and the warm hands that held me, the dark eyes looking into mine were revealed as those of my Dwarf. Thorin nursed me in his lap and stroked my hair as I took the last of the medication he was giving me.

"Thorin," I whispered. My voice, it must be mine, unrecognisable.

 "Hush, do not speak. You are still weak. Conserve your strength."

 “You came,” I murmured, as feeble tears trickled from my eyes. The joy I felt at his touch was enough to bring me strength and life. "Erebor, tell me," I croaked.

 “We fought Dain’s army on the slopes above the Lake. It was hopeless, the numbers against us. We few who survived were saved by your brother and his Elves. I was taken to Lake Town where my life was despaired of. But Vanadesse, the strangest thing happened, which you may be able to explain. In the night it seemed you came to me, to heal me. But when I looked closely I saw it was not you, but a male Elf who resembled you as Legolas does not. This Elf called himself Elrorin.”

 He probed my face enquiringly as pain stabbed through me, sharpening my fading mind, not coming from any injury but from my heart. I knew then that our child had not died, but had left me voluntarily. He had sacrificed himself for his father, using his brief life to heal Thorin. I looked deeply into Thorin’s confused eyes and could not share this pain with him, not now.

 “I cannot understand that, any more than you do my love,” I whispered faintly, my voice cracking from its dryness. “What of our escape?”

 “I found you and Bilbo in the dungeon, we escaped, that is all."

 "That cannot be all. Where is Bilbo?” I knew he was missing because I could no longer sense his innocent spirit close to me.

 “Regretfully he stayed behind to enable our escape.”

 My heart seemed to dwindle inside me. “What of my father?"

 "Your father will trouble you no more," he said cryptically and with some satisfaction.

"What do you mean by that? Thorin you haven't...."

 "Hush, love. When you are strong again." And he would say no more on the subject. We were both lying to each other.

 

  _I cannot find it in my heart to further break hers. Despite all that Thranduil has put her through I know that her Elvish morality will demand grief. And who amongst us does not in the end bear love and loyalty towards our parents, whoever they are?_

_I try to ignore my own failing strength and put all I have into willing her to live. She feels light and fragile as a crumbling leaf in my embrace. My clumsy Dwarrow hands look as if they may crush her with the slightest touch. But I continue to caress her, my one love._

 

 I shivered. The medicine, which initially made me feel warmer, clearer in thought and stronger, seemed to losing its ground. "Thorin, I am cold," I murmured thickly.

 He pulled something soft closer around us both. It was his fur coat. I dug my fingers into its luxury as if it could alone save my life. But I could feel my spirit weakening by the moment. As I tried to marshal my strength I became aware of the raggedness of Thorin's breath, close to my ear. "My love, are you injured?" I asked tentatively. I was afraid of the answer.

 "A scratch." I knew he was lying. I felt sweat on his hands and neck as he held me close. It was cold and clammy. I did not ask more. I knew he would not tell me. But as I attempted to extend my life force around his, to keep him from slipping further from me, I felt his mind close to mine and knew the truth: that we were both dying, here in the darkness of the wood.

 

_I lie to her again in the hope of giving her some peace of mind. Why cannot our love, strong as it is, keep us together, here in this world that barely tolerates us? Her beauty rivals that of the stars she venerates, even as she lies dying._

 

His lips moved against my neck. I felt their touch as a blessing. If I only I could return the caress, love him as I wished, with passion and fierceness.

 "Vanadesse," he said more weakly than before.

 "Yes?"

 "You know that you have been life to me."

 "And you to me, my husband."

 "Where do Elves spend eternity?'

 "With those they love." I tried to sound confident. In truth I did not know if we could dwell together after death. We were pioneers.

 "We will remain together," he said firmly. His stubbornness would not allow any question. It would be so, if a King could command it. I prayed that we would not be separated now. We had so little time together in this life.

 "Does Mahal favour lovers?" I asked in a whisper. "Will he grant us this?"

 "I am certain of it. He will not deny me." I smiled despite our doom. I was oddly comforted by his sense of entitlement.

 

_I lower my head to take her lips gently with mine. She seems too weak to respond but as I try to share my warmth with her there is a faint reply. The flame between us is powerful as ever, in spite of the coming darkness. I caress the smooth skin of her face with my mouth: her cheeks, wet with salt tears; her eyes, their starlight fading. I love her so that I feel I could die of it, without the wound that drains me of life._

 

 We were quiet for a while. I could feel his ragged pulse where his wrist touched my hand. We breathed as one, bled as one, died as one.

 I think may have I passed out but later became conscious of a distant sound drawing nearer. Some minutes later I felt Thorin move, struggling to sit erect. Now he could also hear it. It was a pattering, thumping, panting. Finally it was upon us. I squinted up to see whether this arrival would speed our end or delay it. Through the trees and the gloom I made out a fast moving shape approaching us. It resolved itself into a sled, mounted by a raggedy figure, pulled by disproportionately large rabbits.

 I saw a creature both strange and familiar as the taste of Dwarrow spices. Radagast the Brown, with his sled pulled by giant rabbits. Maybe not just delayed then, maybe we were saved.

 "Radagast! Thorin, it is Radagast!" I breathed.

 

_The ridiculous sled seems a mirage, so unlikely is it, but I remember how the insane Wizard saved us by distraction during our quest for the mountain. His appearance is deceptive. Maybe we truly are to be blessed by Mahal, who may have a sense of humour after all._

 

This stopped my husband's struggling. He lay still, aware as I of the wizard's harmlessness. I squeezed Thorin's hand. "He will help us,' I said reassuringly. I knew that Thorin's nature was essentially pessimistic and that he would have little belief in Radagast as saviour. But I also knew of the Wizard’s strong healing power, although he generally reserved it for animals. I felt that we were saved. At least we would not die untended in the darkness.

 Radagast pulled his sled to a halt and scurried over to where we lay, half covered by now in leaves in the breezy wood.   'What have we here?" he muttered to himself. "Injured travellers, not animals, not my burden. More Gandalf's interest. But he is not here!' He stopped and peered at us short sightedly. “An Elf and a Dwarf, uneasy companions! This could be an interesting story to tell. Won't know the end if I leave them, won't know the beginning either!"

I felt a gentle hand touch my face, moving across it, then slept.

I woke next to a different darkness, warm and rich with earthy aromas. I was lying amongst ancient and ragged rugs. Little light poked its way through filthy windows, but enough to make out the bizarre architecture and furnishings of Radagast’s home, a topsy-turvy jumble of crazy wooden tables and chairs, little creatures scurrying, and at the centre a venerable and lopsided tree.   I breathed easy. Radagast himself was bent over his bed, administering something to a silent still and lumpen shape under the covers. Thorin. I tried to sit, to see the clearer, but fell back, weak as water.

Radagast turned at the sound of my movement. “She wakes!” He moved towards me in that birdlike way and touched my forehead. “Better, better. I was in time.” I could make out a smile amongst the filth encrusting his face. Our Elven healers would certainly never allow him into the healing places, but I knew that his was a different way. He healed not through cleanliness and not only with herbs but, like Elrond, through his own mysterious power. We would recover.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the long delay. I got distracted! (Seeing Richard in the Crucible and meeting him afterwards may have something to do with it!) (She said smugly)

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for errors especially regarding Elf and Dwarf culture etc. This was meant to be short and has short chapters but is growing. It is my first fanfic here. Treat me gently.


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